


Where It All Began

by TheMedJack



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Blood and Gore, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pre-The Maze Runner, Seriously though major fluff!!, Suicide Attempt, The Death Cure Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 39
Words: 95,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMedJack/pseuds/TheMedJack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas had one final thought before having his memory swiped. He hated WICKED for what they were doing. For what HE was doing. Now, he had a chance to put an end to it. As he felt his consciousness begin to fade, Thomas swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to get his friends out of the maze. And just as his memories began to slip away, for a brief moment, he dreamed of Newt. </p><p>(Begins before The Maze Runner and ends right before the start of The Scorch Trials. Mix of book/movie verse with addition of Newt/Thomas relationship).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jump

**Author's Note:**

> After so long, I've finally mustered up the courage to actually post some of my work on here. And you probably guessed it. This is my first fan-fiction and I am unbelievably nervous. Oh well! Too late to turn back now. So anyways, I already have some of the story written, but most of it is still in need of revisions. I'm posting the first chapter now, and I'll try to post a new chapter at least once a week (Sadly no promises, though. My schedule gets pretty busy sometimes). 
> 
> Another topic I need to address: This story is pretty much a compilation of book plot-lines, film plot-lines, and a bit of my own stuff. I wanted to make it as feasible as possible while still including all of the scenes I wanted to write. I'll also try to warn you all of any specific spoilers/possible triggers when I can at the start of the chapter. I do not own the maze runner or any of its characters.

#### WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE DEATH CURE AND ATTEMPTED SUICIDE.

It all began with the Flare.

The virus infected millions, all except for a select few members of the younger generation. These immunes, along with children still susceptible to the disease, were rounded up by the World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department and immediately put through many series of tests so their brain activities could be analyzed and compared. The world desperately needed a cure. 

After being separated from their families and brought to an unfamiliar place, these kids were horrified, scared, and confused. They were too young to understand the situation they, or the world, were in. They had nothing, except for each other. As they grew older, these children bonded over their common fears and quickly became very good friends. But things changed when the candidates were chosen for the maze trials. Four children were selected out of the bunch to help develop, create, and run the two mazes. They were Rachel, Aris, Teresa, and Thomas. All four of them stood out to the WICKED scientists, and were chosen because of their unique brain patterns and thought processes. For years they helped design the maze and come up with the proper Variables to test the other children with.

As the "test subjects" aged, the tests they faced grew more complex, some of which even began to physically harm them. The four designers knew what they were doing was for the greater good of the world, but it was becoming harder and harder for one of them to believe. It was Thomas. He hated watching the only friends he had go through so much pain. It hurt him even more when half of the subjects disappeared from the lab. With their memories wiped, they were the first group to be sent into the maze.

The first day of the trials was one of the most difficult for Thomas to watch. All of his friends were so lost, confused, and terrified. They had no memory of the world or each other. He was not surprised when Gally was the first to resort to violence, and when Alby resorted to anger. Minho was quiet, which was strange for Thomas to see. He usually made sarcastic jokes and was always the one to cheer Thomas up when he was upset. Newt held himself together in front of the other subjects, but as soon as he was alone that first night, he broke down. Tears ran down his face and his clenched hands couldn't stop shaking. Thomas felt like he was taking a dagger to the heart watching Newt. He had grown closer to him than anyone else at WICKED, besides Teresa. Thomas felt so helpless, and guilty for what he and the others were doing to them. It felt wrong. But Thomas didn't say anything and continued the test.

Weeks passed, and soon months. The darker and more violent days in the glade seemed to have passed. Alby took charge, with Newt as his second-in-command. They all seemed much more able to cope with the situation they were in compared to the day when they arrived. Everyone was working together with one common goal: to get out of the maze. But, this cooperation was not without cost. The lives of many gladers had been lost to fear as well as the maze. And with every death, Thomas grew more and more desperate to end the trials so nobody else would have to die. He was disgusted with himself for sitting behind screens, watching his friends die before his eyes. People he had grown up with, people who didn't deserve to die the way they did. What disturbed him even more was that the other designers did not seem at all bothered by this, especially Teresa. And one day, Thomas couldn't take it any longer.

_Teresa._

_Tom? What is it?_

_Why are we doing this?_

_We need a cure for the Flare. This has to be done._

(Thomas paused). _I can't just sit here and watch them die, Teresa._

_You have to, Tom. I know it hurts._

Thomas didn't know what to say. Anger boiled inside him for how heartless Teresa sounded. But he knew she was right. They needed a cure to the Flare before it was too late.

Later that day, Thomas was able to distract himself from his thoughts for a while. His good friend Minho had been promoted to Keeper of the Runners, and Thomas was very happy for him. Thomas knew how hard of a worker Minho was, and how much he deserved this job. It was really nice to see something positive happen in the glade for once.

But, unfortunately, this positivity did not last for long. Thomas first noticed something wrong that night after the Gladers went to sleep. Newt stayed awake, his face blank of expression. He just stared at the closed doors of the maze for hours on end, not moving a muscle. Thomas grew very worried. He watched Newt every day ever since he entered the maze. He knew that Newt still cried at night sometimes, but this was different. His brain chemistry was different. _He_ was different. It had never been like this before. But, Thomas told himself he was probably overreacting and decided to go to bed himself. He made a mental note to keep an even closer eye on his friend the next day.

The following morning, Thomas got up early to monitor the maze. He sat down at the screens just as the runners were entering the maze, and immediately noticed that Alby had joined Newt on his route. After analyzing the other Gladers, Thomas found that Ben woke up sick and needed a replacement for the day. A few hours of running had passed, and Thomas had a camera pulled up on them the entire time. Not long after, Newt stopped and told Alby that he and Ben usually split up to run the outer section of the maze. Alby was confused, as was Thomas. This wasn't true in the slightest, and Thomas knew it. Alby hesitantly agreed, and told Newt to meet him back at the outer entrance in a few hours. Newt nodded his head before taking off in the opposite direction.

Newt ran faster than he ever had before, and Thomas was growing more and more concerned by the minute. _Something is wrong,_ he thought. Thomas watched as Newt continued to round corner after corner until he was near the outskirts of the maze. He stood facing the wall, breathing very heavily. Newt paused before reaching out and stroking the thick ivy that grew on the walls of the maze. With a hand firmly gripped on one of the vines, he started to pull himself up.

"Teresa," Thomas said suddenly from behind his screen, "what is Newt doing?"

Teresa looked up and cocked her head in confusion before pulling up a visual of Newt on her own screen. She stared, watching him along with his brain activity. "I don't know, Tom. I've never seen patterns like this from him before."

Thomas grunted in frustration as they both continued to watch Newt scale the wall until he was halfway up. He then stopped and carefully spun his body around while still gripping the ivy, so that his back was against the wall. Newt slowly looked down towards the ground with an unreadable expression. A single tear ran down his cheek. Thomas' stomach dropped. He knew what Newt was doing. His heart started to pound in his chest and sweat began to drip down his forehead.

"Oh no no no no no no" Thomas mumbled frantically as he pulled his shaking hands to his face. "This isn't happening, this isn't happen-"

Thomas stopped short as he watched Newt close his eyes and began to loosen his grip on the vines. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't be. Not with Newt. _Not with Newt._

"Tom..." Teresa gasped in shock as she realized what was happening.

"AVA!" Thomas suddenly burst out as he turned to the window that leads to her office. "AVA YOU HAVE TO STOP THIS."

Thomas could see through the window that Ava, as well as Janson, stood frantically and rushed into the main lab where he was. Ava raised her hands in front of her trying to calm Thomas down.

"Thomas," she began cautiously, "I need you t-"

"WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE? STOP HIM!" Thomas cried so loudly it hurt his throat.

"There's nothing we can do." Janson said bluntly.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas questioned menacingly, "You can control his movements, you can stop this!"

"I'm sorry, Thomas. We need these patterns." Janson stated with an expressionless face as he began to turn and walk away. Ava said nothing, and paused before turning to follow her colleague.

Rage and adrenaline coursed through Thomas' body as he clenched his fists and stood to approach the two. But movement in the corner of his eye stopped him. Thomas turned to the screen to see Newt falling, eyes closed and his arms out, quickly towards the ground.

"NEWT, NO!" Thomas screamed, reaching out towards the screen, just before the boy's body hit the ground with a loud thud. And then there was silence. Thomas couldn't breathe. His entire body was shaking. "...N-newt," he whimpered, tears beginning to streak down his face. Thomas' legs soon gave way and he collapsed to the floor, loudly sobbing into his hands. Teresa said nothing. She sat there, tears silently falling down her face, staring at the screen which showed Newt's body sitting motionless on the ground.

They both sat there for a while, Teresa eventually making her way to sit next to Thomas on the ground, soothingly stroking his back.

"He's gone, Teresa." Thomas whispered after he started to calm down. "...I did t-this to him."

"No Tom, you-"

"NO!" Thomas jerked away her hand, tears falling down his face again. He sat up and looked Teresa dead in the eye. "I. Did. This." Thomas pointed a finger to the screen without turning his head. "I d-did all of this."

Teresa looked towards the screen, knowing that in a way, Thomas was right. He did this to them. And so did she. They sat in silence for a moment before something on the screen caught Teresa's attention.

"Oh my god, Tom. He's alive."

"What?" Thomas rubbed his eyes and immediately jerked his head towards the screen. He couldn't believe what he saw. Alby was there, kneeling over Newt. Talking to him. And Newt was talking back.

Thomas jumped to his feet and sat down at his screen, still shaking. He watched as Newt weakly hooked an arm around Alby's shoulders as Alby pulled him up. Newt tried to stand, but couldn't. The leg he had landed on was very badly injured, and Newt wasn't able to put any weight on it without falling over. Seeing this, Alby picked Newt up in his arms and carried him all the way back to the glade. They made it back just twenty seconds before the doors shut.

Thomas went from shocked to relieved. But after Newt was carried away by the Med-jacks, Thomas felt something change inside him. An anger like he had never felt before. An anger at the people who forced them all to go through this.

This was all WICKED's fault. And Thomas knew in that moment that he would never be able to trust them again. He hated them.


	2. Numb

That evening, dinner was quiet. The four designers sat at a small table in the corner of the large cafeteria, picking at their food. Rachel and Aris knew something was wrong after seeing Thomas' red, swollen eyes and glazed stare. He wasn't even touching his meal. Teresa looked just as concerned as they did, but she didn't say anything. She didn't know what to do. Some time passed before Teresa finally tried to reach out to Thomas. 

_Tom, please eat._

"Get out of my head."

Rachel and Aris looked up and shared a questioning gaze before Rachel tried the same. _What happened, Thomas?_

"I SAID GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Thomas shouted, slamming his fist on the table. A few scientists sitting at the tables nearby turned towards the designers. Most of them stared at the four questioningly before slowly returning to their meals. 

"Woah, Thomas. Take it easy," Aris said, "is everything okay?"

Thomas looked at him angrily and opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it. Thomas knew that he shouldn't be taking his anger out on Rachel and Aris. They didn't even know what happened and they were just trying to help. Thomas let out a deep sigh and buried his face in his hands. "It's Newt," he mumbled into his palm.

"What was that?" Rachel asked, "we can't hear you."

"Newt," Thomas said sharply as he pulled his hands down and looked up, "he climbed halfway up those damned walls and he-" Thomas paused, getting to worked up to speak.

"He jumped," Teresa whispered painfully, staring at the wall. Rachel and Aris sat there in disbelief. Silence once again filled the table as the two tried to comprehend what they just heard. It took two entire minutes before anyone could speak.

"...is he alright?" Aris hesitantly asked. All Thomas could do was nod.

"Alby found him and brought him back to the glade just before the doors shut," Teresa said blankly, "he survived but his leg will have permanent damage."

"All because of us," Thomas snapped.

"What do you mean, Thomas?" Rachel said quietly.

Thomas glared at her. " _We_ wiped their memories. _We_ put them into the maze. Now we just sit here and watch them die one by one. And for what?"

"For the cure, Thomas," Teresa answered. There was some sadness in her voice, but she believed what she said. 

Thomas wasn't sure he could believe that anymore. He felt sick to his stomach. "Is it?"

"Thomas," Aris said, "we knew going into this that it wasn't going to be easy. But this is what we have to do. I'm really sorry about what happened to Newt. I know you were close with him-"

"ARE close with him," Thomas interrupted, "you're acting he's already dead!"

Rachel sighed before speaking, "He didn't mean it like that. But Aris is right, Thomas. We need to do this."

Thomas sat there in complete shock as anger began to swell inside him. How could his friends be saying these things to him? He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Thomas stood, quickly enough that his chair tipped over behind him, making a loud clattering noise that echoed through the cafeteria. Without a word, he marched quickly out of the room and headed straight to his sleeping quarters. The remaining three at the table all shared a sad look before returning to their food. They didn't speak for the rest of the night.

Thomas was outraged, but he didn't know whether it was at the others or at himself. The other three didn't understand, but that's because Thomas had never told them the truth. He liked Newt. Thomas _really_ liked Newt. But he never told anyone. Thomas knew that telling someone, even if it was Newt, would only bring more trouble to him as well as the others. WICKED didn't want anyone messing with their "precious experiment." This made Thomas blame himself even more for what happened. How could he let one of the people closest to his heart almost _die?_ Thomas had felt guilty over things before, but never like this. It felt like it was physically consuming him.

Hours passed, and Thomas never slept. He laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling, the image of Newt falling from the wall replaying over and over in his head. He cried silently to himself until the tears no longer came. It must have been the middle of the night when Thomas decided to go back to the labs. He stood quietly and slowly made his way down the long corridor to the main lab entrance. He scanned his card and the lights blinked green before the doors beeped and opened quickly.

The lab was empty. It was dark and nobody else was there, not even Ava or Janson. Thomas was glad, he needed some time in the lab to himself. Walking towards his designated screen, Thomas pulled out his chair and sat down. He flipped on his monitor and activated Beetle Blade A-67. A visual of the maze suddenly appeared, and Thomas maneuvered his hands on his keyboard to move the camera around. He looked to his right and saw the homestead, and moved the beetle towards that direction. The camera passed multiple sleeping gladers, all of whom were sprawled out on the ground, snoring loudly. Thomas made sure not to accidentally bump into them as the beetle slithered by.

Upon reaching the homestead, Thomas guided the beetle up the outer wall to a window that Thomas knew was a make-shift hospital for the Med-jacks to use. The beetle scurried towards the window, making small metallic clicking noises with every step. After a few moments, the beetle stopped at the windowsill and scanned the room. Newt was alone, laying on a small cot tucked under a blanket. A very thick bandage and splint were wrapped around one of Newt's elevated legs, but he didn't seem to have any other major injuries.

Thomas let out the breathe he didn't know he was holding, glad to see that Newt looked okay and well taken care of. He slowly guided the beetle inside the room and up onto the table that sat next to Newt's bed. Thomas angled the camera so it was directly on Newt. He slept so peacefully, and Thomas couldn't help but watch him for a few moments.

"I'm so sorry, Newt. For all of this." Thomas whispered at the screen, sadly knowing that they boy wouldn't be able to hear him. "You don't deserve this, none of you do. I just wish there was more that I could do."

Newt's faced suddenly scrunched before he opened his eyes, immediately spotting the Beetle Blade. He gasped loudly and sat up in his bed, unsure of what to do. Thomas expected him to get angry, to attack the metal creature before it disappeared. To try to get back at "the Creators" for what they did to him. But Thomas was wrong. Newt just sat there, staring into the lens that was attached to the beetle's head. He frowned, probably confused as to why the beetle wasn't trying to escape.

"...H-hello?" Newt whispered.

"Hi, Newt," Thomas said to the screen as tears began to roll down his face again. It was so hard for him to look Newt in the eye, even if it was only on a monitor. "You know that I'd n-never hurt you...right?"

"...Is anyone there?" Newt said, staring directly into the camera while he spoke. Thomas paused, wishing he had a way to speak to Newt. In that moment, he longed for it more than anything else. Thomas needed Newt to know how he felt, and how he never wanted any of this to happen. But he couldn't. Thomas just had to sit back quietly and watch his friends continue to suffer. He began to wonder if it was even any worse being in the maze than it was being on the other side.

"I'll always be here," Thomas whispered before he started to guide the Beetle Blade back out the window where he entered from. Newt sat frozen in the position he was in, watching the beetle quietly leave the room. It was becoming too much for Thomas to look at Newt any longer after what happened earlier that day. The guilt overwhelmed him.

After deactivating the Beetle Blade, Thomas sat and stared blankly at his screen for a long time. He didn't even try to wipe away all of the tears on his face. Thomas didn't know how much time passed before he made his way back to bed. He somehow managed to get a few undisturbed hours of sleep before it was time to get up. Thomas had to force himself out of bed and to the lab, his body telling him otherwise. He sighed as he entered the large room and took his seat. He avoided any eye contact with Teresa, who was already hard at work. Looking at the screen, Thomas could see that the gladers were also just waking up and preparing for the day. He tried to forget what happened so that he could listen to his friends and go on with the experiments. He tried to tell himself that these people were suffering and dying for a good cause. That in the end, it would all be worth it. That WICKED was good.

He felt numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of these chapters are fairly short, so I'll definitely try to post a chapter at least once a week. If time permits, I'll post more like I did today! Thanks for reading!


	3. Swipe

Thomas never felt the same after what happened that day. He tried so hard to continue with his work, but it became increasingly more difficult to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. It was like Thomas had a constant war going on in his mind, and he had no idea how to stop it. What made Thomas more upset was that nobody else every seemed to question WICKED. They all believed that what they were doing was necessary. Aris, Rachel, and Teresa continued to work diligently for months on end. And what bothered Thomas the most is that none of them seemed to care about what happened to the test subjects... _his friends_...in the maze.

As much as Thomas wanted to help the Gladers, he knew that there was no way he could do so without getting in trouble with Ava or Janson. Knowing that those risks would be too high, Thomas hesitantly decided to simply blend in. He acted just like the others, prioritizing the cure over anything else. Thomas hated doing it and hated even more that he once used to believe it. But as difficult as it was, Thomas continued to work hard on the maze trials while hoping that his friends in the Glade remained safe. Several more months of pretending passed, and Thomas found that one of the most painful parts of blending in was not telling Teresa and the others how he truly felt about WICKED. All Thomas wanted to do was to talk some sense into them. He needed them to understand that what WICKED was doing wasn't right and that it needed to end. Despite this, Thomas never spoke a word to them, physically or telepathically. He couldn't risk it. 

Some days were harder for Thomas than others, with most of the bad ones involving Newt. Although his leg had healed nicely, Newt constantly had to walk with a very noticeable limp. To Thomas it was a permanent reminder of what had happened to Newt. He still blamed himself for it, and he knew that he probably always would. Some nights, just like the one after Newt's accident, Thomas would quietly make his way to the lab and activate a Beetle Blade. He'd watch over Newt, and sometimes talk to the image of him on the monitor. It broke Thomas' heart to not be able to speak with Newt, but this was the closest thing he had to doing so. Being separated from the others in the maze was really starting to take its toll. Thomas was certain that he was the only one out of the four designers who wasn't dreading going into the maze. He wanted to be with his friends again. 

After over two years, the day had finally come for the final test subjects, not including the designers, to enter the maze. Thomas dreaded it, knowing how hard it would be to watch Chuck on his first day. As he was being lifted into the maze by the box, tears had already begun to run down the child's face. He panicked and cried the entire trip until the metal box came to an abrupt stop. The Gladers, already surrounding the compartment, quickly opened the doors. Chuck looked up, wiping the tears off of his cheeks, and started to breathe heavily. A large number of boys surrounded him, making him feel very outnumbered and inferior. He was the youngest boy in there by at least two years.

"Look at this shank," Thomas heard Minho say, "he can't be older than twelve." The other gladers burst out laughing and joined in.

"Come on out, little green-bean!"

"Did he just klunk his pants?!"

"Slim it, slinthead."

"Who are you callin' a slinthead, shuck-face?"

"ENOUGH." Thomas knew that was Alby. Suddenly, an eruption of voices filled the glade. Some sounded like arguments as to how to convince the poor boy out of the box. Others sounded like they were mocking the kid. Eventually, after about thirty minutes, Alby and a few other Gladers coaxed Chuck out of the box. He was still sniffling and wiping his eyes, but he had calmed down quite a bit. Thomas hated seeing Chuck, the youngest, so scared and confused. What made it worse was all of the bullying on Chuck's first day. Thomas gripped his chair with white knuckles as some of the Gladers continued to call Chuck names throughout the day and make fun of him. Thomas had always been very protective of Chuck, and he had always been there for him. But now, there was nothing Thomas could do but watch Chuck suffer alone.

As time passed, most of the Gladers became much nicer with Chuck. Chuck took longer than most to grasp the situation he was in, but he seemed much better now. He was still teased sometimes, especially after being assigned as a Slopper. But most of the time, Chuck handled it really well and Thomas was very proud of him. He desperately wished he could remember how much Chuck meant to him when it was time to enter the maze for himself. He knew not to get his hopes up.

Thomas' last day in the lab approached very quickly, almost too quickly. As he sat at his desk, monitoring the glade, Ava came up behind him and lightly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"May I speak with you for a moment, Thomas?" She said calmly. Her gaze was soft, almost sad. 

Thomas spun in his chair to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Please follow me," Ava said, walking back towards her office. Thomas followed at her heels, curious as to what she wanted to tell him. They both sat down, sitting across from each other at Ava's desk. Thomas was first to break the silence.

"Is there something I did wrong?"

"Oh, no," Ava answered, "not at all. I just wanted to speak with you one last time before the swipe."

"...Okay." Thomas muttered.

"Thomas, I am very proud of the work you have accomplished here. Thanks to you and the others, we have gained essential information needed to start working on the cure. You've made big a difference," she paused for a moment, "and I know you will continue to do so."

Thomas didn't respond. He had an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach when Ava said she was proud. To him, the maze trials were not something to be proud of.

Ava paused to piece her words carefully before she continued, "I know some of this was hard for you, Thomas."

Thomas looked up sharply at Ava, but didn't speak. Anger surged through him as memories of Newt began to flood his mind. Ava was _there_ when the accident happened. She could've stopped Newt, but all she did was stand there with Janson, watching it all happen. 

"But I want to make sure that you understand that what we're doing here is right. It is necessary for our survival as the human race."

Thomas frowned, his gaze never leaving Ava's. He hated WICKED with all of his being, but he knew that the world needed a cure. Too many cities, countries, and nations had already fallen to heat and to disease. At this rate, the human race would not survive without a cure. Thomas' head hurt. He despised what he was doing, but also could see Ava's point of why they were doing it. But Thomas knew that even though the world needed a cure, it would matter how they got it. Was it worth WICKED developing a cure, while losing their humanity along the way?

"Thomas, do you understand?"

Thomas hesitated, forcing out a lie. "...Yes. I understand."

Ava smiled slightly, with an unreadable look on her face. "I'm glad to hear that, Thomas." She paused to look at the clock, before stating "You have around three hours before the swipe. Why don't you take the rest of your time off?"

"Okay. Um, thank you, Ava."

"No, Thomas. Thank YOU."

Thomas nodded to Ava before turning to leave her office, walking through the lab and to the door. Teresa looked up at him with concern, and Thomas shook his head to let her know everything was okay.

_Tom? What was that about?_

_Just goodbyes._

_Oh. How long do you have?_

_Three hours. Ava gave me the rest of the day off._

_I want to see you before then._

_Okay, meet me in a few hours when you're done in the lab._

_Okay._

When the time came, Thomas and Teresa met outside the operation room. They stared at each other for a long time. Despite their different opinions on WICKED, Thomas and Teresa had grown very close over the years. Thomas suddenly felt nervous at the idea of not remembering her, or anything at all. Without speaking, Teresa pulled Thomas into a tight hug. They didn't let go until they started to talk. 

"Hey," Thomas said upon seeing Teresa's sad face, "I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled.

"But I won't know who you are." Tears glistened in Teresa's eyes. 

"But we'll both be there. We can watch out for each other."

"I hope so."

"I know so." Thomas pulled Teresa in for one last hug just as Aris and Rachel walked up. Thomas reached out and shook hands with both of them before turning to Rachel. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess." She replied. 

Thomas nodded with a slight smile before turning to Aris and Teresa, waving at them as he and Rachel walked through the doors.

"Bye, Tom." Thomas could hear Teresa say just as the doors slammed behind them.

Multiple doctors suddenly approached, wearing rubber gloves and surgical masks. The one closest to them spoke up, "We're ready for you now."

Thomas and Rachel shared one last reassuring look before walking towards the two tables that sat on opposite sides of the room. Thomas laid down, staring at the white lights above him and completely ignoring all of the doctors probing at him. His mind began to wander, and he quickly began to panic as he remembered that his memory was about to be erased. WICKED had allowed the four designers to keep their original memories to help remind them what the world was like while designing the maze. It was all Thomas had to hold onto his past. The other maze candidates had the memories of their names and families swiped immediately after being chosen by neuroscientists for the experiment. They had their new names assigned and were then introduced to the four designers. Thomas wished he'd been told their real names first. His mind quickly began to sift through dozens of memories, like a slideshow of Thomas' life.

First, he saw his mother and father. Those memories were slightly blurry because Thomas was only five or six when he last saw them. His birth name was Stephen, but nobody was allowed to call him that. He saw himself playing games with them. Riding a tricycle, playing with blocks, coloring in a book. They loved him so much. More than anything in the entire world. Then he saw his father get sick. He disappeared one day. His mother got sick, too. Then WICKED came and took him from his family and brought him here. Thomas never saw his parents again after that. 

Thomas' darker memories turned light for a moment at the sight of all of his new friends. Children from across the nation all gathered together at WICKED. Thomas grew close with a lot of them, and he knew that they all felt the same about him. It wasn't bad when they were young. But as they got older, things started to change. Children began disappearing until only the test subjects for the maze trials remained. They had the rest of their memories swiped, just as Thomas was about to do, and they were sent into the maze. Thomas could remember a few happy memories with his friends when they were younger, but it was not enough to cover the death and suffering these they were facing.

Thomas shivered. Despite what he said to Ava, he knew what he believed. Thomas was tired of sitting there watching his friends die. He knew that in creating this cure, WICKED, as well as the rest of humanity, would lose themselves along the way. Now, Thomas had a chance at doing something for his friends. In just a few hours, he would enter the maze himself with his memory wiped clean of all but his assigned name. But he knew that he had to try something, memory or no memory. As he felt his consciousness slipping away, Thomas swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to get his friends out of the maze. And just as his memories began to slip away, for a brief moment, he saw Newt. The climb, the jump, the fall. His smile. His limp. His voice. The both of them together again in the Glade. 

And then, everything faded to black.


	4. Greenie

The boy woke in a cold, dark room. A sudden jerk sent him flying across the floor into a metal wall. Groaning in pain, the boy tried to see where he was. The shaking metal room that held him felt as though it was moving upwards at a very fast pace. He sat there, looking around, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark. Heavy breathes left his mouth as he tried to take in his surroundings. Where was he? What is this place? But another question of even more importance made him pause. _Who_ was he?

The boy dug through his mind, searching for some form of identity. He panicked as he realized how little he was able to remember. He tried as hard as he could to retrieve anything from his memory, but all he could grasp was his name. Thomas.

Thomas tried to control his breathing, but failed to do so. He tried to stop his hands from shaking as he searched for a way out of the room. There was nothing. All he could feel were a few crates and barrels, but nothing that could lead to an escape. _How did I get here?_ Thomas asked himself before he started to frantically cry for help. "Is anyone there? HELP! Please, HELP ME!"

Suddenly, a loud thud interrupted his thoughts. The room came to a halt, the sudden stop sending Thomas crumpling to the ground. Just a few seconds of silence passed before there was a light so bright that it hurt Thomas' eyes to look straight at it. It started as a thin line and grew wider and wider until Thomas could see where he was. He sat in a metal box that seemed to have entered from underground. Boys of different ages all stood around the box, staring down at him from the top. Laughs and shouts suddenly filled the air and echoed down into the box.

"What a shank."

"I'll bet he's a slopper."

"This Greenie looks more scared than the last one, ha!"

"He's shucked."

"Come on," an authoritative voice shouted above the others, "Let's get him out!" Some of the boys reached down and opened the gate, sending down a rope for Thomas to grabbed on to. Thomas hesitantly wrapped his hands tightly around it before he was jerked up and out of the box. Once out, Thomas pushed himself to his knees, whipping his head around constantly. Who were these people?

"Calm down there, Greenie," the same voice from before said, "it's alright."

Thomas looked him in the eyes for the first time. The boy was very tall, and looked older than the others. He stood with a firm stance, his head angled down towards Thomas. Thomas took a few moments to collect himself before speaking, not knowing what to ask first, "Where am I? What is this place? Why can't I remembe-"

"Slim it. Save it for the tour, Green-bean."

Thomas was even more confused than before. He quickly stood and reached out towards the boy. "Wait, but what abou-"

"SLIM IT. Clint, Ben, take this shuck-face to the slammer. The box came late today, so he'll get the tour tomorrow."

Two more boys emerged from the crowd, each grabbing one of Thomas' arms. Thomas fought with them, demanding that someone explain to him what was going on. Eventually, once he figured out he wasn't going to win this battle, he gave up and sulked quietly. After a few minutes, the three reached what looked like a small cellar in the ground, with doors of crossed metal bars.

"In ya go, Greenie," one of the boys said, gesturing towards the cell. Thomas sighed and climbed in without argument. He knew that if he complied, his questions would probably be answered. The other boy pulled out some keys and locked the doors before both of them walked away without a word. Thomas sat still for a very long time, his mind trying to process what all had happened. He didn't have much to go off of, though. His memory was completely gone. And that scared him the most.

Morning came slowly for Thomas, who spent little time actually sleeping. He was far too curious to be able to rest. As he saw a figure approach his cell he stood and walked towards the locked door.

"Mornin' Greenie." It was the boy from yesterday, the one who seemed to be in charge. He crouched down in front of the cell so he could be eye level with Thomas. "Now listen here," he stated, "I'm gonna do the talking, and you're gonna listen." Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but shut it when the boy raised an eyebrow. He then continued, "My name is Alby, and I'm first in command here. We call this place the Glade. We eat here, work here, sleep here, and all that other klunk. You came up in the box, just like the rest of us. This is your home now, Green-bean. It's home for all of us." Alby paused at seeing Thomas' scared look, and his face grew slightly more sincere. "Alright. Do you remember anything? Do you know your name?"

"Um..." Thomas started, trying to find words, "I'm Thomas."

Alby nodded in approval, "Nice to meet you, Thomas. Can you remember anything else? Anything from before you came up here?"

Thomas paused, straining his brain for any fragment from his past, but he came out with nothing. It felt so wrong not remembering anything. His mind felt almost empty. Thomas frowned and groaned in frustration before pulling his hands to his head. "I can't remember anything."

Alby sighed in defeat, "It's the same with all of us. Our names are the only thing they let us keep."

"They?" Thomas looked up, intrigued. 

"The Creators. We don't know who they are, but they're the ones who put us here, the ones who send us supplies, the ones who wiped our memories. That's all we know." Alby pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. "Come on out, Greenie. That's enough for now. Time for the tour."

For the rest of the day, Alby led Thomas all throughout the Glade explaining their history, their system, and how they make it all work. They spoke about the dark days, jobs and daily routines, as well as different Gladers and their positions. Thomas tried very hard to keep his mouth shut, not wanting to make Alby mad. As they were nearing the end of their trip around the Glade, Thomas had more questions than answers. He refrained from asking them, though. 

"Hey, Alby!" Both boys turned to see a short, smiling kid with curly brown hair. He looked so much younger than the rest of the boys here.

"Hey there, Chuck," Alby said with a small smile, "have you met our new Greenie yet?"

"No, I was working when he came up," Chuck answered shyly before turning to Thomas. "Hi, I'm Chuck! But I guess you already knew that..."

Thomas smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Thomas."

Chuck shook it and smiled back. He was really glad to have someone else new to the Glade like he was the previous month. 

"Well Chuck, I think we should give our Greenie a break. Let him have some time to let this all sink in," Alby said as he nodded towards Thomas, "see you tonight."

"Uh, thanks, Alby. See you around, Chuck," Thomas said before Alby turned and began walking towards the homestead, taking Chuck with him. Chuck waved goodbye before joining him. 

Alby was right. Thomas needed some time to let everything sink in. He decided to head over to the edge of the forest to think. After a few moments, Thomas sat and rested his back against a rather large tree. He looked out into the Glade, watching the others preparing something later tonight, although he had no idea what that might be.

Thomas' mind soon began to wander, pondering over all that Alby had told him earlier that day. At one point in the Glade, there was no system. No control. It was chaos and many boys lost their lives to fear. Thomas couldn't imagine what it was like for them to go through that here, all scared, isolated, and without any memories. He wondered how they rose from that, how they got where they were today. It must have taken a long time. They've built so much, and Thomas was truly impressed at how smoothly everything seemed to go throughout the day.

Thomas then began to question where he fit in all of it. He knew that he would need to find a job, and Alby explained how he would go through and try each job for a day to see what he's good at. Thomas didn't have a problem with this, even though he had a strong gut feeling about where he should be. Throughout the entire tour, Alby repeatedly had to snap Thomas out of his daydreams as he gazed beyond the Glade doors. He was told that a large maze lies beyond them, and Thomas couldn't help but be a little curious. Alby seemed very distant and vague on the matter, which only made Thomas want to know even more. It was almost as if, in a sense, he felt drawn towards the maze, like it was calling to him. Thomas knew that he wanted to be one of the people who went out into the maze every day. He couldn't explain it, but he just knew.

The sound of footsteps interrupted Thomas' thoughts when he heard footsteps approaching him. He looked up to see Chuck, struggling to carry two large plates and some drinks towards him.

"Hi Thomas," Chuck said as he stopped and looked at the contents in his arms, "I thought you might be kinda hungry."

It wasn't until now that Thomas realized he hadn't eaten a thing since that morning. He was suddenly very grateful to have a meal placed in front of him. "Thanks, Chuck. I appreciate it," Thomas said, taking a bite of his food. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he ate, "Wow, this is pretty good."

"We're lucky to have Frypan, he cooks most of our food." Chuck responded, digging into his own meal. "So how are you doing?"

"Um, I'm okay, I guess. Just confused."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I klunked my pants on my first day...and the second." Chuck admitted sheepishly. "Is there anything I can help you with?" Chuck asked, trying to hide his eagerness. He wanted to help Thomas so bad, in any way he could. Chuck knew how miserable he felt his first few days, especially with not many people to turn to. He wanted Thomas to be able to turn to him in need, he wanted to make this easier for Thomas than it was for him.

Thomas paused before answering, "I'm just trying to adjust, really. I think it'll just take a little time," Thomas replied, "but thank you, Chuck."

"Your welcome." Chuck smiled, and Thomas returned one. Chuck continued to talk for a while after that, opening up more and more as time passed. Thomas listened to him most of the time, but sometimes he found his mind drifting away towards the maze. He'd snap himself out of it before retuning to Chuck's story. It was just starting to get dark when Chuck grabbed all of their empty dishes from dinner. "Oh, shuck! It's almost time! Come on, Thomas. We have to get back!"

"Back for what?" Thomas questioned, standing.

"The bonfire! It's for you!" Chuck said, walking quickly in front of Thomas.

Thomas followed behind Chuck, a little nervous. He had no idea what to expect from people he had just met in this place. _Oh well,_ Thomas thought, _it can't be that bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! Just a quick note from me: I really want to try and avoid having an episodic structure in this work. I want to try to include each day without skipping more than a few hours. With that being said, there may be some slower parts in the story. But this way, I can introduce more characters and have more scenes to develop them in! That's all for now, thanks for reading!


	5. Newt

It felt so crowded around the fire. The party made it seem like there was far more than fifty people living in the Glade. Thomas was trying to enjoy himself and to get acquainted with the other Gladers, but it was hard. There was still a lot on his mind. After a while, Thomas found himself sitting by himself a little ways away from the bonfire, with his back towards the group. Thomas stared at the closed maze doors in front of him, a million things running through his head at once. He wondered what the maze was like, and why nobody would tell him about it. How big was it? How do those huge stone doors open and close by themselves? Why do they even close in the first place?

Thomas sat like this for quite a long time before one of the Gladers found him. He walked into Thomas' view and folded his arms. Thomas looked up and saw a boy with blond hair and a dirty white sweatshirt. Thomas remembered seeing him when he first came out of the box, and while he was on the tour with Alby, but he didn't know who he was.

"There you are, Greenie." The boy said as he sat next to Thomas and leaned against the log behind them. "Some of us were beginning to wonder where you'd run off to."

Thomas felt a little guilty, the party was for _him_ after all. "Sorry, it's just been a long day I guess."

The blonde's expression softened with a look of understanding. "Don't worry about it, we were all just like you at one point."

Thomas nodded. He really didn't know what to say at the moment. He had so many questions, but didn't know whether or not it was the right time to ask them.

"What was your name again, Greenie?" The boy asked.

"Thomas."

"Good to meet you, Tommy!" He smiled, "You can call me Newt."

Thomas smiled back, happy to find another person who treated him kindly on his first day. A lot of the Gladers came off as pretty intimidating. And, for some unknown reason, Thomas liked the name Tommy. It made him feel welcomed, like he and Newt were already good friends. And from what Thomas could tell, Newt seemed to be a fairly approachable person compared to the others. So, he decided to ask some questions. Thomas paused to collect his thoughts before he looked back towards Newt. 

"Hey Newt?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me about the maze?"

Newt looked at him and narrowed his eyes slightly, studying Thomas. Not many people in the Glade wanted to know about the maze at all, let alone on their first day in it. Newt turned himself towards Thomas and propped himself up with an elbow on the log before answering. "Well, we live here in the Glade, and the maze surrounds us on all sides. Nobody is allowed to go in, unless they're a runner. Those shanks map their own sections of the maze and report back before sunset. If they don't make it back by the time the doors close, then they're stuck out there for the night."

Thomas shivered at the thought. He'd never even seen the maze, but the thought of being trapped in there alone at night terrified him. "What happens if they don't make it?"

Newt stared out towards the closed doors, his eyes not moving while he answered. "Grievers. Nobody has ever seen one and survived, but we know they're out there. They mostly come out at night, while the walls change."

"Wait, the walls change?"

"Every night," Newt sighed, "every bloody night those walls change and our runners have to start from scratch every morning. It's become a bit of a routine, actually."

Thomas began to feel uneasy thinking about what kind of changes happen out in the maze. If the walls truly changed every night, he knew what that meant. "...So you haven't found a way out, have you?"

Newt glanced at him, with almost a defeated look on his face, "No. Not yet, anyway."

"There has to be a way. I can't explain it but I just know that there's a way." Thomas said. He knew he was telling the truth. There wouldn't be any reason for them being in a maze if there wasn't some kind of way to solve it. 

"I sure as hell hope you're right, Tommy." Newt sighed, taking a drink out of the jar he'd been holding. He held it out to Thomas. Thomas looked between Newt and the jar, a questioning look on his face. "Come on," Newt said with a small laugh, "try it."

Thomas slowly reached out and grabbed the drink from Newt who was staring at him expectantly with a smirk on his face. Thomas brought the jar to his mouth and drank, but immediately regretted his decision. He choked on the bad taste and spat out the drink into the grass in front of him. Newt couldn't contain his laughter.

"Ugh, what was that?!" Thomas asked, wiping his mouth in disgust. 

Newt smiled and tried to speak between his laughs, "To be honest with you, I have no idea. It's Gally's recipe." Newt looked around and quickly spotted him, "There he is." Newt pointed towards a very large and tall boy, who was currently wrestling with two other smaller Gladers by the bonfire. "He's the Keeper of the Builders."

Thomas looked and watched for a few minutes before he realized he had no idea what Newt's job was. "What's your job here, Newt?"

Newt looked back at him, "I'm second in command here. I'm in charge when Alby's not around, but that doesn't happen very often."

"So what do you do when Alby _is_ around?"

"I mostly just help wherever help is needed. Most of the time it's with the Track-hoes. I don't mind helping Zart and them in the gardens," Newt answered.

"So how will you guys know what job I should have?" Thomas asked, with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Well, you'll try out all of the different jobs for a bit. We'll watch you and determine where you're most efficient. Why so curious, Greenie?" Newt tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Thomas looked down towards the ground and spoke quietly, "I think I know what I want to do."

"Oh yeah?" Newt sounded surprised, "and what would that be?"

"I want be a runner," Thomas said, looking back up at Newt with hopeful eyes.

"No one _wants_ to be a bloody runner, Tommy." Newt said, shaking his head. 

"I just know I need to go in the maze, like it's what I'm supposed to do. It just feels right, Newt."

Newt breathed out a laugh in disbelief. "Well, you're the first Greenie to ever want to become a runner...but you still need to try the other jobs. We'll see how you do with all of the different choices and go from there."

Thomas sighed in defeat and look towards the ground, a sad look in his eye. Maybe Newt was right. Thomas didn't even know if he was physically fit enough to be a runner.

Newt, upon seeing Thomas' look of disappointment, suddenly felt bad for some reason. He didn't mean to hurt Thomas' feelings. "Hey," Newt said, playfully shoving Thomas' shoulder, "but I'll keep what you said in mind, yeah?"

Thomas looked up, a surprised grin on his face. "Really?"

"Just please try all of the jobs for a bit before you try to jump to any conclusions. We have a system here, you know."

"Okay. Yeah, I will." Thomas said eagerly.

"Good that." Newt nodded his head. Minutes passed as they sat in silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, though. They both found it relaxing. After what felt like a long time, Newt finally broke the silence, "Well, I guess the party looks like it's about over. Come on, I'll show you where most of the Gladers sleep."

They both stood and Thomas followed Newt to a large area by the gardens. A few boys have already spread out there and were fast asleep.

"Some blankets are over there if you want one," Newt said, pointing over to a nearby covered area. A few boys stood there, grabbing blankets and pillows out of wooden crates.

"Thanks, Newt," Thomas said, starting to walk to get a blanket. He only made it a few feet before stopping and turning around, "Hey, Newt?"

Newt looked back at Thomas. "What?"

"Uh, thanks for talking to me. I appreciate it." Thomas said, stuttering once.

Newt smiled, "No problem, Tommy. Now get some sleep, you have a long day ahead of you."

Just as the two boys began to part ways, the loud ringing sound of a siren filled the entire glade.


	6. Girl

The noise sounded repeatedly like an alarm as it grew louder. Thomas looked back at Newt in confusion. He had to yell over the sudden commotion, "Newt, what is that? I think I've heard it before!"

"It's the bloody Greenie siren!" Newt shouted, sounding even more confused than he was. "The box isn't supposed to come up for another month!" Newt began to run towards the box, with Thomas following behind him. Thomas caught up to Newt very quickly, and it wasn't until then that he noticed Newt had a slight limp. It was more noticeable now while Newt was running because he had to hop with every step to keep pace. Thomas maintained his speed so that he'd stay at Newt's side as they approached the box. 

Soon, almost all of the Gladers were crowded around the doors of the small metal room. They were all speaking in hushed voices with the people around them, all of whom wore looks of worry and confusion on their faces. It was clear to Thomas that something like this had never happened before. Even Alby looked a little nervous. After twenty minutes of painstaking waiting, the box had finally arrived and came to a stop. The siren stopped blaring, but nobody moved of spoke a word. They all sat in silence.

Newt was the first to snap out of it and open the doors. He looked down into the box and froze. When he looked up, his face was pale. "It's a girl. I think she's dead."

Alby walked up and looked inside. "Gally, Minho. Get her up here."

The two boys walked up, Gally holding some rope. The other boy looked at least a year or two older than Gally. He had jet black hair and appeared to be one of the oldest and strongest in the glade. Thomas remembered Alby saying something about Minho while taking him on the tour. He was fairly certain that Alby said Minho was the Keeper of the Runners.

Gally helped Minho into the box and together they pulled the unconscious girl up. Her hair was long and black, and it covered most of her pale, unmoving face. Thomas leaned in to get a closer look and could immediately see that she was still breathing. "She's alive," he said, relieved. 

"Is she sleeping?" Chuck asked groggily, who was asleep himself before this happened.

"No," Gally said while examining her, "she would've woken up after all of that." Alby ordered two med-jacks, Clint and Jeff, to look at the girl. They both ran up, one of them carrying a bag full of medical supplies. After spending a few minutes looking her over, they both stood up.

Clint spoke first, "I think she might be in a coma. Everything checks out normal, she's just unconscious." He and Jeff started to pick her up to carry her to the homestead, but Minho stopped them.

"Wait, what is that?" Minho said as he reached for the girl's hand. In the girl's grasp was a small paper with a hand-written note on it. Minho pulled it out and read the message. His expression darkened. "It says, 'She's the last one, ever.'"

Panicked murmurs quickly made their way through the small crowd of boys.

"Well what does _that_ klunk mean?" Someone asked.

"Is this for real?"

"What about the box? We _need_ it."

Suddenly, the girl drew in a loud gasp of air before she sat up. Her eyes looked wild as they frantically darted from person to person. She stopped when she found who she was looking for. "Thomas," she breathed, "everything is going to change." As quickly as she woke up, the girl suddenly passed out again, her breathing becoming slower and more steady.

The Glade had never felt so silent. Every head turned to Thomas and he didn't even have to look up to know it. He could feel their stares boring into him from all directions. Why him? Thomas couldn't remember anything, he had no idea who this girl even was!

Alby finally broke the silence. "Thomas," he snapped, "do you know her?"

Thomas looked between Alby and the girl a few times before shaking his head. As frustrating as it was, he couldn't recall anything familiar about her. 

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yeah...I think so."

Alby sighed, "Alright, show's over. Clint, Jeff, get her to the homestead." He turned to face the crowd of boys and shouted, "Nobody touches this girl. I mean NOBODY. I want someone with her at all times on watch. You hear me?" Alby waited for a response but was given none. "YOU HEAR ME?" A chorus of scared 'yeahs' and 'okays' came from the group. "Good that. Now everyone get to sleep."

Alby walked away with Clint and Jeff, who were carefully carrying the girl. The Gladers slowly began to disperse from the box, leaving only a few left standing there. Thomas didn't move, frozen from the events that just unfolded in front of him. How did that girl know his name? And what did she mean by things were going to change? That couldn't be good.

"Are you alright, Greenie?"

Thomas turned to see Newt. "What does any of this mean?" He asked, unable to contain his worry. 

Newt folded his arms and looked at the box. "No idea. This is the first time we've had more than one new Greenie within a month. This is the first girl we've had, too. I think it's got everyone a little on edge."

"Yeah. Something about this feels weird." Thomas said.

Newt looked at him closely. "Tommy are you positive that nothing about that girl seemed familiar?"

"No, I don't know her..."

"Well she sure seemed to know you."

Thomas rubbed his face with his hands. This was all so messed up, and he'd only been there for a little over a day. Thomas didn't know how much more confusion and stress he could take.

Newt could see this and sighed, "I think you should get some rest. We all need it after today."

"Yeah, okay." Thomas said as he turned the other way, still in a daze.

The two boys went their separate ways and soon, every Glader was settled down for the night. Thomas stayed awake, though. Not because of Chuck snoring next to him, but because of his mind. No matter how he tried to distract himself, Thomas couldn't stop thinking. His mind was everywhere. He strained himself as he had earlier, trying to retrieve any lost memories. He did so with no avail. The more Thomas tried, the more frustrated he became. How is it even possible to not remember anything?

Thomas eventually sighed and accepted defeat. His mind began to drift back towards the Glade and the maze and the grievers and the Gladers and the girl and suddenly everything came crashing down on him at once and he couldn't stop it. Tears silently ran down his face as Thomas stared at the dark sky, wondering what all of this meant. After some time, Thomas fell into a light sleep. He tossed and turned all night.

The next morning, Thomas woke up just as the sky was beginning to brighten. Most of the other Gladers were still asleep. Thomas looked around to see a few boys, most of whom were runners, getting ready to enter the maze. They stood at the closed doors on the walls and waited patiently for them to move. A loud booming sound soon filled the Glade as the doors eventually began to open. The runners entered as soon as the doors were wide enough for them to fit through. Thomas sighed and stood up. The doors opening seemed to act like for an alarm clock for most of the boys. They all seemed to suddenly wake up and start moving at the same time.

"Morning, Thomas," Chuck said as he stood up and stretch both his arms.

"Hey, Chuck." Thomas muttered. He was still half asleep.

Chuck looked Thomas over before saying "Wow, you look like a piece of klunk. You sleep okay?"

"Not really," Thomas said as he rubbed his eyes. He hoped it wasn't too noticeable that he had cried last night before falling asleep.

"Well maybe some of Frypan's pancakes will wake you up. Come on!" Chuck smiled as he led Thomas to the small building that served as a dining hall. It had electricity and plenty of cooking utensils, which Thomas was confused about but very thankful for. _At least the Creators decided to give us decent food,_ he thought.

Breakfast did help wake Thomas up a little. He felt better with a full stomach and was ready for his first day of jobs. He knew that he had to look at everything more positively, because no matter what, this was his life now. Thomas made his way to the homestead once he was finished eating. He wasn't really sure where to go but figured that Alby would probably be there.

Thomas walked in to find a small group of around ten people gearing up for the day. He spotted Alby in the back of the room and made his way over to him.

"Hey, Alby," Thomas said.

Alby turned around from what he was doing and smirked. "Ready for your first day on the job, Green-bean?"

Thomas nodded. Deep down he hoped Alby would put him with the runners first, but he knew that wouldn't happen since hey already left.

"Good that. You're startin' with the slicers. The Keeper's name is Winston," Alby said while turning. He scanned the room for a few seconds before spotting the slicer. "Hey Winston, come here! I got a Greenie for ya!"

A lean boy with noticeable acne on his face walked up and shook Thomas' hand. "Hey there, Greenie. I'm Winston, you ready for some slicin'?"

Thomas shrugged, "I guess so." Thomas didn't know why, but he felt a little nervous.

"Let's get going, then." Winston walked out the door and led Thomas across the Glade to a small building next to the livestock pens. A few other slicers were already there, prepping the meat.

"Aye Winston! Ready when you are!" Someone shouted from the back.

"Go ahead and get started," Winston replied, "I have the Greenie with me today!"

"Ha! Good luck!" The same boy said. Thomas didn't know if he was talking to Winston or to him. He hoped it wasn't him.

"Okay, Green-bean," Winston said, turning to face Thomas with his arms outstretched, "Welcome to the Bloodhouse. This is where we slaughter animals for food and other resources. Nothing from them goes to waste here. I'll have you watch me for a bit to get the idea before setting you up with some simple jobs. Then we'll see how you do. Let's get started."

Thomas hesitantly walked over and stood behind Winston, who was standing at a table with a dead pig. He had all sorts of tools and towels scattered around, red stains on some of them. Thomas swallowed. As he watched Winston make the first cut into the pig, he got a bad feeling that this was going to be a very long day.


	7. Gally

It felt like an eternity before Winston yelled for a lunch break. Thomas had only been there for a few hours and, despite his lack of memories, knew that those were the worst few hours of his life. He was actually quite surprised that he managed to make it through that entire session without passing out. He came pretty close a few times, though. Thomas released his white-knuckle grip on the table and let out a sigh. As he stepped outside, Thomas felt a surge of relief as a breeze of fresh air hit him. He took a deep breath in before making his way to get some food. Hopefully he'd still be able to eat after see all of that. 

Upon entering the dining hall, Thomas quickly discovered that most of the Glade took their lunch breaks at the same time. It was pretty crowded in there. Thomas made his way in and quickly gathered some food before finding a seat near a corner of the room. He tried to nibble at some bread, but he still felt a little queasy after his time with the slicers. As he continued to eat very slowly, Thomas became lost in his thoughts and didn't even notice when someone had sat down next to him.

"You look bloody awful."

Thomas smirked, knowing who it was. "I guess you could say I had a rough morning."

"I've never seen anyone so pale before," Newt said. "Where did Alby put you?"

"With the slicers."

"Ah, that makes sense. Uhmm..." Newt trailed off, looking like he was searching for something. He stood up and grabbed a clean rag from the nearby kitchen counter and ran it under some water. He came back and handed the rag to Thomas. "Here, put this on your head. It'll help."

Thomas gladly took it and rubbed it on his forehead. "Thanks, Newt."

Newt smiled and nodded in reply before returning to his own food. They both ate their lunch in silence before Newt spoke finally up.

"Feeling any better?" He asked. 

Thomas nodded, "Yeah. It just felt good to get out of that Bloodhouse. I was getting pretty queasy in there."

"Well the good news is is that you're done in there. You'll try a second job this afternoon. Now we know you won't be a slicer."

"Good that." Thomas said without even realizing that he started to pick up on all of the Gladers' slang. Newt noticed and smiled. He remembered when the slang first started to show up in the Glade. It was down right hilarious. Newt always found it fun to watch the newbies awkwardly try to use it until they eventually got more comfortable with it. 

After checking the time on his digital watch, Newt stood and grabbed his empty plates. "Time for me to get back to work. I'll see you around, Tommy."

"Seeya, Newt." Thomas replied as Newt turned and left. Thomas stayed behind to finish the last few bits of his meal, feeling much better than he did before. Once finished, he got up and left in search for Alby. Thomas was really glad Newt came over and helped him at lunch. The rag really did help. Thomas eventually found Alby outside, watching over some of the other Gladers. Alby spotted Thomas almost immediately and made his way over to him.

"Halfway done with your first day, Greenie. How you holdin' up?" Alby asked with a small laugh.

Thomas scratched the back of his head, "I'll just be happy if you send me anywhere but back to the Bloodhouse."

Thomas was pretty sure this was the first time he'd heard Alby laugh. "Don't worry, Green-bean. Winston has seen enough. I'm puttin' you with Gally and the builders for the rest of the day." Alby reach his arm out and pointed across the glade. "They're all over there working on a new shelter, so head on over that way."

Thomas nodded at Alby before making his way towards where the builders were working. He was relieved he didn't have to go back to the Bloodhouse, but Thomas was also still a little nervous for some reason. Nothing could be worse than working in the Bloodhouse, right? He sure as hell hoped not.

Thomas made it to the site and searched for the boy that Newt had pointed out to him the previous night at the bonfire. He wasn't hard to find. Not only was Gally a lot taller than the other builders, he was also much louder. He actually came off as pretty intimidating. Thomas took a deep breath before walking to him.

"Gally?" Thomas said.

Gally turned, his eyebrows raised in question. "What do ya want, shank? Can't you see I'm building here?"

"Uhm...Alby put me with you for the afternoon."

Gally groaned and paused for a moment before speaking, "Fine. We're building an additional pen for some of the livestock. I'm going to assume you know the basics of building, so you can help if need be. But you should really just stay out of our way, we really don't need you here."

Ouch. That was not how Thomas planned for that to go at all. What was Gally's problem? There wasn't really much Thomas could have done to make Gally so angry. He's only been in the Glade for less than two days. The last thing Thomas wanted right now was to have any enemies right off the bat. Thomas just sighed and assumed that Gally had had a rough morning.

Thomas spent most of his time with the builders just walking around, watching the others. His offers of help were usually declined, but Thomas was able to help a few of the builders with the foundation of the pen for a bit. Thomas couldn't help but feel eyes on his back the entire time. He knew that some of the builders were staring at him. Most of the time it ended up being Gally. Something was up with him, but Thomas had no way of knowing what it was. Gally made it pretty obvious when he bumped into Thomas, making him drop the box of nails he was carrying. Thomas had no doubt that it was on purpose.

"What was that for?" Thomas asked, waving his arm towards the mess underneath them.

"That's on you. Watch where you're going, shank." Gally spat.

Thomas didn't mean to talk back to Gally, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to know what he'd done to Gally to make him so upset. "What's your problem with me, Gally?"

Gally scoffed, "My _problem_ with you? I don't have a problem with you, Greenie. You ARE the problem."

"...What? What do you mean I'm the problem?"

"You show up and bring that shuck girl with you. She brings that note saying she's the last one ever. Did you know that the box, which brings us supplies we NEED to survive every week, hasn't gone back down yet? Ever since you showed up, things have been a shuck mess."

"Why would this be my fault, Gally? How could I have done any of this?" Thomas questioned.

"I've seen you before. I've seen you and I know you have something to do with all this. And I plan on finding out what it is." Gally didn't wait for a reply as he bumped into Thomas again and walked away towards the pen.

Thomas stood there, half confused and half in shock. What did Gally mean he'd seen Thomas before? He thought nobody here remembered anything. Thomas sighed, and tried not to worry about it for the moment. He just wanted to get through this session. Slowly, Thomas knelt down and picked up every nail and put them back in the box. He helped carry boxes of supplies around for the rest of the day until it was time bed. Thomas had never felt so excited to get away and sleep. He was far too tired to think, so he had no trouble drifting off into a deep and much-needed sleep.


	8. Gardens (Newt's POV)

The following morning, Newt woke up earlier than most of the Gladers to start making preparations for the day. He found that, unlike the others, he worked most efficiently in the morning. Newt was outside when the doors to the maze rumbled opened, hauling a barrel of supplies to the gardens. They were going to plow and replant a new section of potatoes today. Newt stopped and wiped his forehead, observing the glade. Despite the limited light, he could see that the other boys had woken up and were heading to breakfast, so Newt decided to do the same. 

After grabbing a small meal, Newt looked around for a seat. Scanning the room, Newt saw Thomas and Chuck sitting alone at the end of a table. He made his way over to them, wanting to hear how the rest of Thomas' day had went.

"Morning," Newt said as he sat down next to Thomas. Chuck and Thomas both acknowledged him with a nod and poor attempt of a smile, their mouths full of food. Newt waited until they both swallowed their food before speaking to Thomas. "So how was your other job yesterday?"

"Apparently Gally told him off," Chuck said with a chuckle.

Thomas sighed. "Is he always like that? Or was it just with me?"

"Gally can be kind of a slinthead sometimes," Chuck said, "he gets that way a lot."

"I wouldn't sweat it, Tommy," Newt said, "Chuckie's right. Gally has never been the easiest to cooperate with."

"What did he even say to you, anyway?" Chuck asked.

Thomas hesitated, and Newt noticed. "It's nothing, Chuck. He just implied that I was pretty useless and that I all I did was get in their way."

"Well that's just a big load of klunk!" Chuck said, earning a laugh from Thomas.

"I sure hope it is," Thomas said with a smile. The three boys continued to talk until they all finished their meals. They stood and placed their dishes in one of the sinks before making their way outside. Newt was just out the door when he felt a hand grab his arm. He turned to see Thomas, a stern look on his face.

"I need to tell you something." Thomas said quietly.

"Is everything alright?" Said Newt, sounding concerned. He could tell there was something off in Thomas' voice. 

"Yeah, just follow me." Thomas led Newt behind the building and away from the nearby Gladers. Newt confusedly followed. He had no idea what to expect, so he just waited for Thomas to speak first. 

"There was more that Gally said to me yesterday." Thomas muttered. In the few days he'd known him, Newt had never seen Thomas so serious. Newt raised his eyebrows, anxiously waiting for a reply. "He said he remembered me, Newt. He said he'd seen me before."

Newt was silent. He certainly had not expected _that_ to come out of the Greenie's mouth. Newt stood and collected his thoughts for a moment before speaking. "There is a way for some of us to remember our memories."

"What?! How?" Thomas asked frantically.

"We call it the Changing. It's when one of us gets stung by a griever, and then they're given a special serum to treat the sting. It lasts a few days, and is very painful. But when you get stung, you get a few fragments of your memories back. Gally is one of those people." Newt saw Thomas' eyes grow wide in shock and confusion as he tried to take in this information. He could see all of his questions forming by the look in his eyes.

"How did he get stung? I thought nobody has survived a night in the maze..." Thomas trailed off.

"Very rarely, Grievers come out during the day. Gally just happened to be a substitute runner one day when that happened." Newt replied. He watched as Thomas looked past him, deep in thought about something. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he began to breathe heavily.

"Oh no..." Thomas gasped.

"What's wrong?" Newt asked urgently.

"If Gally has real memories, then what he said might be true, but how could it be true? I don't even rememb-"

"Tommy," Newt snapped, "what did he say?"

"He said that I did all of this. He said it was my fault. And he said that things are starting to change because I'm here."

Newt was once again speechless. He tried to pull some words out but nothing came. He just stared at Thomas for what felt like a very long time. That can't possibly be true, could it?

Thomas continued, "But how could this b-be my fault? I don't remember any of thi-"

"Tommy..."

"If I did this then why am I here? Why would I be in he-"

"Tommy."

"But what if he's right somehow and I _did_ do t-this to you guys someho-"

"TOMMY!" Newt had to shout to get Thomas to stop talking over him. "This is Gally we're talking about here. Just because he has seen your face before doesn't mean anything. I'm sure if any more of us went through the Changing, we'd remember each others faces, too. We can't jump to conclusions, here."

"...But what Gally said, about everything starting to change after I showed up..." Thomas muttered.

"Yeah, things have changed recently, but that doesn't mean you caused them. You were here before anything changed, so how could you have caused it?"

Thomas sighed, "I don't know, I..."

Newt reached up and placed a comforting hand on Thomas' shoulder. "I don't think it was you. It was the Creators. Not you."

Thomas nodded reluctantly. He looked like he was trying to convince himself that Newt was right before letting out a strained sigh. "Okay. Thanks, Newt."

Newt smiled and began walking with Thomas back towards the front of the building. Curiosity made Newt break the silence between them. "Why did you tell me?"

"Um, I mean what Gally told me kind of freaked me out and I knew I couldn't go around telling _everyone_ what he said..." Thomas said.

"But why did you tell _me_?" Newt asked.

Thomas stopped walking for a moment and looked directly at Newt before answering, "Because I trust you." Neither of them said anything after that, not even when they parted ways at the homestead.

Newt couldn't keep his mind off of Thomas as he worked in the gardens with all of the track-hoes. He remembered how terrifying it was when he himself first came into the maze. The difference was that Newt came up with a few dozen other people. Thomas came up by himself. From his own experience, Newt knew how difficult it was to make friends at first, considering nobody had their memories. He was glad that Thomas was able to do so much quicker than he had before. Other than his encounter with Gally, Thomas seemed to be adjusting really well. Better than most, actually.

It didn't take long for Newt to realize that he really enjoyed Thomas' company. He didn't know how, but Newt knew since their talk at the bonfire there was something about Thomas that was different than the others. The way he acted, the way he thought. It was all different from what Newt had seen in the other Greenies. The fact that Thomas only confided with Newt about Gally really did show how much Thomas already trusted him. And he couldn't explain why or how, but Newt trusted him too. It was almost like an instinct.

Newt continued to work on digging holes for the new potatoes for quite a while. He enjoyed having a relaxing hands-on job to give his mind a rest. Newt had worked so many hours in the gardens, that he might as well call himself a track-hoe. It was never made official, but the other Gladers see him as one too. Newt was just starting to haul the bags of seeds out of the barrel when he heard a voice behind him.

"Zart?" The voice said. Newt didn't have to look up to know who it was, but he did anyways. He knew he was right when he saw Thomas walking up towards the gardens.

Zart, the Keeper of the Track-Hoes, looked up from his work. "Hey, Greenie! You with us today?"

Thomas nodded, "Yeah."

"Good that," Zart said with a smile, "why don't you come over and I'll show you what we're workin' on."

Thomas made his way over to Zart and kneeled on the dirt where he was. Newt watched as Zart showed him how deep to deep each hole, how much of a potato to put in, and how much water to pour on. Newt did the same thing at the opposite end of the garden. And after a few minutes, Zart let Thomas go on his own before returning to his own work.

"So Green-bean, how you likin' it here?" Zart asked while wrapping some vines around a stake.

Thomas looked up, but didn't stop working. "Better than my first day. It was a bit of a shock. I'm think I'm starting to get used to everything, though."

"That's good, we all have those rough few days. But you seem to be doing pretty well. How have your other jobs been?"

"Uh, not so good. I've only been with the slicers and the builders, so this is a really nice change," Thomas smiled.

"Those shanks are a little over-the-top in my opinion," Zart said, "but track-hoes, on the other hand, have the best job in the glade."

"A little bias, dontcha think, Zart?" One of the boys said jokingly.

"Hey, I'm just speakin' the truth." Zart replied. "Just wait, Greenie. You'll be _crawling_ back here once you try all those other shuck jobs."

"Well I have to say" Thomas said, "I definitely like this the best so far." Thomas was making good progress, working his way down the line. Newt was working in the opposite direction, moving towards him. It only took a few short minutes for them to cross paths. 

"Watch where you're planting, Greenie," Newt said jokingly.

Thomas looked up, and smiled. "Well hello to you too."

"Did you already do that whole row?!" Newt asked, looking at the line of watered patches of dirt sitting behind Thomas.

Thomas turned back to admire his handiwork. "Yup."

"Hey Zart!" Newt called, "I think Tommy here is almost as fast as of a gardener as you!" Zart looked up and raised an eyebrow when he saw Thomas at the opposite end of the garden.

"Not bad, Greenie," Zart said with an impressed smile, "not bad at all."

Thomas shrugged and joked, "Maybe I used to be a farmer."

Zart slowly nodded while crossing his arms. "Hm, maybe."

The track-hoes laughed before getting back to work. Newt looked up at Thomas while he was digging. "You know, that was pretty impressive."

Thomas looked up, eyebrows raised. "All I did was plant potatoes."

"But you liked it, right?" Newt asked.

Thomas looked at his row and shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. More fun than slicing or building, that's for sure."

"Well maybe," Newt said in a hushed voice so that Zart and the others couldn't hear, "this could be a back-up for you. Just in case running doesn't work out. You're pretty good at this."

Thomas paused to consider it. "Maybe. But I still have a gut feeling that I'm supposed to be a runner. You never know, maybe I wasn't a farmer. Maybe I was a track athlete."

Newt looked up and smirked. "What is it with you and your bloody past hobbies?"

"I don't know. It feels weird not remembering anything so I guess I'm just trying to fill some holes."

Newt laughed and shook his head.

"What?" Thomas asked louder, "Tell me none of you have done that, too."

"I sure have!" Zart said while digging up some dead plants, "I like to think that I used to work with animals. Live animals, that is. None of that slicing klunk."

"Like in a zoo?" One boy asked.

"Don't know," Zart said, "I remember what a zoo is, but nothing specific about them."

"What do you think Gally did before?" Thomas asked, with slight hesitation.

"Well, he's definitely got some muscle to him, and he's pretty good in a fight..." Zart trailed off, thinking hard, "...karate, or wrestling maybe?"

"Good guess, that seems fitting," Thomas said.

"Oh! What about Frypan?" Zart asked.

"I mean I've only been here a few days, but the food is great. I'd be surprised if he'd never had any previous experience like in a restaurant or something." Thomas answered thoughtfully.

"What about me?" Newt asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

A few of the boys studied Newt, deep in thought. This one was a little tougher for some reason.

"Hm, not sure," Zart said, "this one's hard."

Thomas still sat, focusing on Newt. He looked like he was trying really hard to think of something that fit. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and a smile started to grow on his face. "I think you were an artist, that you liked to paint."

"Really?" Newt said, sounding pleasantly surprised. He'd never thought about that before, and the idea did seem appealing.

"Yeah," Thomas said confidently, "I can see it."

"Me too! Newt is the one who actually drew up the plans for the garden way back when. Good one, Greenie." Said Zart as he returned to his work of weeding.

Newt and Thomas did the same. They both chopped potatoes, buried them, and watered the dirt on top. Both of them were working at different paces but eventually, their actions lined up. Without looking, Newt reached up to grab his small shovel but accidentally grabbed Thomas' instead. Newt looked up to see that Thomas had done the same, so now the Greenie's hand was resting right on top of Newt's. They both froze.

After a few moments, Thomas' eyes widened and he pulled his hand back. He started to blush but looked down in attempt to hide it.

"Sorry...uh..." Thomas stuttered.

Newt pulled his hand back and scratched the back of his head. Even though he was trying to hide it, Newt could see Thomas' pink cheeks. Newt really hoped he wasn't blushing himself. "...It's okay...how...how about you get us some more fertilizer, yeah? We're almost out."

Thomas seemed to jerk out of a daydream. "What? Oh...yeah, sure!" Thomas grabbed an empty basket from nearby and quickly started to walk of towards the edge of the forest.

Newt watched him until he heard someone cough. He turned to see Zart, who had an intrigued look on his face. Zart looked back and forth between Newt and Thomas, raising an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Newt asked.

"You know what." Zart said.

Newt had no response, and he could feel his cheeks getting warmer. He quickly looked down and went back to his work. What just happened? Newt sighed, too tired to think. He focused on his work for a while before looking off to where Thomas disappeared into the forest. 

"What's taking him so bloody long?" Newt asked.

"Why don't you ju-" Zart started to say but was cut off by the sound of a loud scream that echoed throughout the Glade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!!! Double update!! Since the last chapter was so short, and I've only been posting once or twice a week, you lovely readers get two chapters today! Enjoy :)


	9. Attack

Thomas bolted as fast as he could towards the edge of the forest. He could hear Ben gaining on him, so he pushed himself to run even faster. Just as Thomas broke the forest's edge, he tried to scream again for help.

"HEY! HELP ME! HEY, OVER HERE!" Thomas' throat hurt from all of the yelling and running, but he knew he just had to make it a bit farther. But Ben was right behind him. Thomas glanced over his shoulder as he tried to throw his basket full of fertilizer at him, but it missed and tumbled to the grass behind them. 

Suddenly, Ben dove and wrapped both of his arms around Thomas' legs, pulling both of them to the ground with a loud thud. Thomas groaned in pain as he tried to wriggle out of Ben's grasp, but he couldn't break free. Ben reached up and grabbed one of Thomas' shoulders, and then the other. He stood for a moment before putting one knee on each of Thomas' arms, pinning him to the ground.

"This is your fault," Ben spat as he lowered his face right in front of Thomas', his eyes red and wild. "You did this, and _this is your FAULT_."

Ben suddenly wrapped both of his hands around Thomas' neck and began to squeeze, hard. Thomas gasped but no air would come in. His body convulsed violently, trying to break free from Ben's firm grip. All Thomas could see was Ben's wicked face, smiling as he squeezed even harder on Thomas' neck. Thomas began to choke in pain as his body demanded air. The world around him began to blur. As everything started to fade away, Thomas could hear what sounded like distant shouts and screams. Footsteps shook the ground like an earthquake. And then suddenly, freedom. The pain and pressure around his neck was gone, and he could breathe again.

Thomas gasped for air, but it couldn't come in quick enough. His throat still felt so clenched. Straining his eyes, he was able to look up to Newt, Alby, Chuck, and some others gathered around him. Newt was holding the shovel with both hands, breathing heavily and staring at something. Thomas looked over to his left to see Ben being pinned to the ground by Gally, Frypan, and Zart. Thomas tried to breathe in again, but his throat stung and he started to cough.

The Gladers standing above him looked down in panic.

"Tommy?! Can you hear me?" A voice said.

"Clint, Jeff, get over here NOW!" Another voice said.

"It'll be alright, Thomas," A third said.

Someone frantically poured some water in Thomas' mouth, and he was finally able to stop coughing. But the lack of air was still too much, and Thomas found it harder and harder to hear the voices near him. His vision slowly began to fade again before it completely faded to black as he lost consciousness.

When Thomas woke up, he was in a small room with wooden walls. There were multiple shelves on the walls, stocked full of different bottles and jars. Next to him was a table with some water to drink. Thomas went to turn his head but found it hard to do so as a pounding pain pulsed through his head. He reached up and felt a thick bandage wrapped around his neck. Then the pain came back in his throat. He moaned as he tried to sit up in his bed. Suddenly, one of the med-jacks came rushing in at the noise. 

"Woah there Greenie," he said, pushing Thomas back against the bed, "you gotta take it easy."

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a cough. The Med-jack, Jeff, grabbed the water and handed it to Thomas. "Here, try this. It has some medicine in it that should help your throat. Ben had a real good grip on ya, so your voice might take a little bit to come back completely."

Thomas took the water and drank half the glass before putting it down. He tried to speak again, but was careful not to strain his throat to much. Only a small whisper came out. "...Need...to t-talk...Newt."

"You want me to get Newt?" Jeff asked. Thomas only nodded slightly in reply. "Okay, I'll be right back. Don't leave that bed."

Thomas waited patiently for Jeff to return. As he sat quietly, Thomas started to recall what happened before Ben attacked him. He was in the gardens with Zart and the other Track-hoes...and Newt...they were planting potatoes. They did that for a while until...he went to grab his shovel...but he held Newt's hand instead. Thomas felt a sudden rush of embarrassment and hoped Newt wouldn't bring it up. Letting out a sigh, Thomas eventually drank the rest of his medicine and laid back down. A few minutes passed before the two arrived. Jeff set a new glass of water on the table next to Thomas and walked out to check on the girl in the next room. Newt peeked in the doorway before walking in towards Thomas. Thomas suddenly felt really nervous for some reason.

"How's your throat holding up, Tommy?" Newt asked quietly as he examined the bruises that peeked out from Thomas' bandages.

Thomas lifted his hand to make a "so-so" gesture. "Ben..." He whispered.

"Turns out Ben was stung," Newt said as he went to sit on the side of Thomas' bed. Thomas started to feel nervous again. _Why the shuck is that happening?_ Thomas thought to himself.

Newt didn't seem to notice, or at least pretended not to notice as he continued. "And it all happened in broad daylight, too. Ben is going to be banished tonight for his attempt to kill you."

"...Banished?" Thomas mumbled. He could very slowly but surely start to feel his voice coming back.

Newt sighed, "You'll see tonight." He paused before changing the subject, "So, why did you call me up here?"

"Ben...s-said...same as...Gally." Thomas struggled to say. 

"What?" Newt asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

"I...did t-this...All...my...fault." Thomas said quietly.

"Ben? Ben said that?" Newt said, sounding shocked. Thomas nodded solemnly. "Did he say anything else to you?" Thomas shook his head no. He reached up to take another drink of water.

"Now two people...remember me...after being stung." Thomas said, his voice improving slightly from the drink. He didn't even try to hide the worried look from his face.

Newt could easily see how stressed Thomas was about this, so he tried his best to calm the boy down. "Well Ben was not in his right mind and I don't trust Gally's opinion, so I really don't think you have anything to worry about. We talked about this, remember?" Newt answered, placing a comforting hand on Thomas' shoulder, just as he had earlier when they talked.

"Hope you're right." Thomas said with a defeated sigh.

Newt hesitated, "Alby will want to know what Ben said to you. Is it alright if I tell him what you told me?"

"...Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Thomas' voice had improved immensely just within the last few minutes. It still cracked as he spoke, but he no longer had to strain himself to speak.

"Thanks, Tommy. And you're already sounding better, by the way. But we decided to give you the rest of the day off to rest. Come downstairs to the doors before they close tonight."

"Okay, see you then." Thomas said as Newt nodded and walked out the door. Thomas felt better after telling Newt what happened with Ben, and relieved that he never brought up what happened between them before Ben's attack.

As Thomas sat by himself, he quickly became consumed with boredom. After multiple failed attempts at trying to entertain himself, Thomas decided to try to get some sleep. It took a while to fall asleep, but he was successful. He woke a few hours later to find that his throat barely felt sore. Whatever kind of medicine Jeff put in his water worked wonders. Thomas sat up in bed, and was glad to see that it no longer hurt his throat to do so. It was only still a little sore when he touched his neck. He knew there would still be some visible bruises there for a little while.

Just as Thomas was standing to walk out of the room, Chuck appeared in the doorway.

"Hey Thomas! Feeling better?" Chuck said with a smile, "You look better."

"Yeah," Thomas said with a cracked voice, "actually I feel a lot better."

"Good. You missed dinner, but the banishment is gonna start soon and I came to get you." Chuck said, turning to walk back out the door.

Thomas stopped him by grabbing his shoulder, "Wait. What are they gonna do to Ben? Newt wouldn't tell me."

Chuck turned with an unreadable expression. "They're gonna send him into the maze."

Thomas froze and took a moment to register what he'd just heard. Ben would be forced into the maze and will be locked in after the doors close. After that, he belonged to the Grievers. Thomas shuddered at the thought. What a horrible way to go.

"Has this happened before?" Thomas asked.

"A few times, yeah. But they all happened before I showed up, so I haven't seen one yet," Chuck answered.

Thomas didn't know what to say at this point. He could tell that neither him nor Chuck really wanted to witness the banishment. But apparently they had to. "I guess we should get going."

"Yeah." Chuck said. The two boys quietly left the homestead and made their way to one of the open doors. A crowd of Gladers had already gathered, murmuring quietly. Some turned and stared as they approached, but Thomas pretended not to notice. The two both stood near the back, waiting.

As the last sign of the daylight left the sky, the boys slowly began to turn their heads towards the slammer. Thomas turned to look and saw Ben being escorted to the doors with his hands tied behind his back. He recognized the person behind him. It was Minho. As the drew closer, the crowd of boys parted on either side of the door. Only the keepers, plus Newt and Alby, wielded long wooden poles and remained in the center.

Ben violently tried to shake his way free, crying and begging for mercy. Minho had to hold on with both hands to keep Ben steady. His face had grown very pale on his walk to the doors as he guided Ben to the edge of the glade and backed away. He picked up his own pole and took the spot next to Frypan and Alby.

"Ben." Alby said calmly, "You are charged with the attempted murder of Thomas the Greenie. The consequence of such actions is your banishment."

"P-please Alby, d-don't do this," Ben said between his cries of agony. "Please!"

"READY," Alby said as he lowered his pole so that it was pointing towards Ben. The others followed suit. As they did, the loud booming sound of the doors starting to close filled the glade. "ADVANCE!" Alby shouted.

Ben frantically tried to push the poles away, but he was struggling. As the keepers moved towards him, his screams became more and more terrifying. He barely sounded human. Thomas looked over at Chuck to see the boy breathing heavily with a scared expression on his face. Thomas reached out and patted Chuck's back reassuringly. He hated that Chuck had to watch this, he was the youngest one here and didn't need to see this.

As the heavy stone doors came to a close, Ben was forced to retreat into the maze to avoid being crushed by the wall. The doors slammed shut with a crash, cutting off Ben's final pleading wails. Everyone stood silently where they were. Nobody liked doing what they just did, but they knew it had to be done. Slowly, as time passed, some of the Gladers finished paying their respects and made their way back to the glade. Thomas remained where he was, trying to fight the feeling that this was his fault. He tried to tell himself that, but it couldn't stop him from feeling guilty.

The keepers stayed the longest, holding their wooden poles. One by one, they each placed their pole against the closed door and walked away. Thomas shared a sad look with Zart, and then Newt, as they walked past. Minho was last. Thomas hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to Minho that much since he was always out in the maze. But, he knew that Minho and Ben were good friends. It must have been such a hard thing for Minho to send him away.

Minho slowly turned and trudged away. Thomas approached him as he walked by. He spoke with a scratchy voice, "I'm sorry. About Ben."

Minho looked up at him with sad eyes. He took in a shaky breath before letting out a sigh. Reaching up, Minho patted Thomas on his arm in thanks before turning to walk away. Thomas followed and made his way towards the sleeping area. He spotted Chuck in the spot next to his, still awake. Thomas sat down next to him and peeked over.

"You okay, Chuck?" Thomas asked quietly.

Chuck looked over at him without sitting up. He nodded, but his eyes looked distant.

"Maybe he'll make it." Thomas said, even though he had no idea why he did so. He was probably just trying to make a poor attempt of making Chuck feel better.

"We just have to forget about him now." Chuck said as he rolled over, his back towards Thomas. Thomas laid back, staring at the sky. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, so he stayed up and explored his thoughts. There was so much on his mind, primarily what Gally and Ben said about him. The worst part was that as much as Thomas tried to deny it, he had this strange feeling that what they said was right. And Thomas hoped more than anything that they were wrong. By the time all of the other Gladers were asleep, Thomas was still up, thinking. It must have been halfway through the night when Thomas finally drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets fluffier from here on out I promise<3


	10. Beetle

The next morning, Alby shook Thomas awake. The boy opened his eyes with a jerk and sat up quickly. He looked around to see that everyone else was still asleep, and that the doors were still closed.

"Sorry Greenie. Didn't mean to scare you," Alby said quietly, "I'm just lettin' you know that I'm filling in for Ben. This morning, you're with the Med-jacks. Then head over to Frypan and them and you can help with dinner. Got it?"

"Yeah, okay," Thomas nodded groggily, "I got it."

"Good that. See you, Greenie." Alby said as he turned and started headed towards one of the closed doors. Thomas stretched his arms and yawned. He was delighted to find that his neck felt fine today, even when he touched it. Slowly, he removed his bandages and placed them aside. It felt good to get them off. Looking around, Thomas decided to lay where he was until the doors opened. The silence was nice.

As the light of day began to fill the sky, Thomas heard what he thought was a small rustling sound behind him. The boy quickly spun to find the source of the noise, and his eyes widened when he saw a small red light under a nearby bush. He got up and started to walk towards it, but as he did the light began to slither away. Thomas started to walk faster, pursuing the red light. As he looked at it more closely, he could see the light was at the front of a small animal-like body. Except the body was metal.

 _This thing sure moves fast for being so small,_ Thomas thought to himself as he dodged trees and bushes without taking his eyes off the red light. He was just starting to gain up on the metal creature when Thomas suddenly ran into something hard. It took almost no time for Thomas to register it was a person. Unable to catch himself, Thomas toppled over and brought both of them to the ground. They landed with a groan.

Thomas, who pushed himself up onto his elbows, looked down in surprise to see a very annoyed Newt laying underneath him. Thomas started to feel nervous again.

"You know, Tommy," Newt said from the ground, "I was joking yesterday in the gardens, but now I'm serious. You've got to watch where you're going."

Thomas couldn't move. His body froze as he was taking in what just happened. And he thought accidentally holding Newt's hand was bad? Now here he was, laying on top of Newt, with their faces just a few inches apart... Thomas quickly tried to compose himself before finally speaking, "I'm _really_ sorry, Newt. I was just chasing this thing and I almos-"

"Uh...Tommy?" Newt interrupted.

"What?"

"Can you get off me, please?" Newt said, a blush growing on his face.

"Oh, right," Thomas said as he awkwardly pushed back on his knees and rolled over Newt so that they were sitting next to each other.

"You were saying?" Newt said, sounding a little off for a moment. Thomas chose to ignore it.

"Oh yeah. Uh, I was chasing this thing. It was right behind me after I woke up and then it started to run away. From what I could see it was metal, and had a little red light on the front of it. The way it moved made it look like an animal or something," Thomas said quickly.

"Ah," Newt nodded in understanding. "You just met a Beetle Blade."

"A what?" Thomas said, raising his eyebrows.

"A Beetle Blade. They usually stay hidden, but sometimes they come out in the open. They tend to run away when we see them, though. They're something the Creators put here."

"But what do they do?" Thomas asked curiously.

"We're not sure, but our best guess is that they're just cameras," Newt paused and frowned for a moment. "I think that's got to be it. I saw one of the buggers up close once."

"Really?" Thomas asked a little too eagerly, "What did it do?!"

Newt almost laughed at Thomas' interest, he looked just like a little kid. Thomas never failed to surprise Newt with his curiosity, none of the other Gladers were like that at all. "I was spending the night in the med room one night after a...um...accident in the maze."

"In the maze?" Thomas asked, wearing a perplexed look.

Newt nodded, "My first job here was being a runner. And one day, a Griever attacked and gave me a nice limp as a souvenir."

Something about Newt's voice sounded off again, but in a different way. Regardless, Thomas stayed quiet and kept listening.

"So I was sleeping in the med room and in the middle of the night, and a noise woke me up. I looked over to the window and saw a Beetle Blade on the table right next to me. I just stared back at it, afraid I'd scare it away. But, it didn't move. It just sat there, watching me. I even tried to talk to it," Newt sighed before continuing with an expressionless look on his face, "and eventually, it ran off out the window. I haven't seen another one since."

Thomas sat silently. Newt knew him well enough to know that he'd suddenly be full of questions. And, he was right.

"But why would the Creators want to watch us? What would they even be watching for? And what abo-"

"You have as good a guess as I do, and I have no bloody idea why they're in here with us," Newt said with another sigh, "and now that you've set me behind schedule, I really need to get back to work."

"Back to work? What were you doing before I got here?" Thomas asked, noticing Newt's sudden change in mood.

"I work best in the morning, so I always load up all of the gear for the Track-hoes every morning and take it over to the gardens," Newt said as he gestured over to the scattered materials he'd been carrying when Thomas knocked him over.

Thomas felt bad. "Sorry about that...here, lemme help." Thomas stood and started to pick up some of the shovels and baskets.

Newt stood and did the same. He looked over at the Greenie with a small appreciative smile, "Thanks, Tommy." By the time the doors opened, both boys moved all of the supplies and were finished just in time for breakfast. As they began to walk over together, Thomas noticed that Newt still seemed a little off. Ever since he brought up the accident he had in the maze and the Beetle Blade, Newt's voice seemed almost...sad. Something was definitely on the blonde's mind, and Thomas wanted to help him in any way he could. He didn't like seeing him this way.

"So," Thomas said, breaking the silence between them. 

Newt looked up for an answer, "Yeah?"

"Alby put me with the Med-jacks and Cooks today, any advice?" 

Newt shrugged as he walked. "There's not that much to cooking, really. I bet you'll get the hang of it. It's a little trickier with the Med-jacks, so you'll probably just watch."

"The Med-jacks probably won't be doing much, though..." Thomas trailed off. 

Newt looked at him with amusement, "You'd be down right shocked with the number of people that visit the Med-jacks every day. Mostly Slicers after cuttin' themselves up." 

Thomas nodded and thought back to his time in one of the med rooms. He didn't think much of it then, but the Med-jacks actually had a very nice supply of medicines and bandages. After hearing Newt's point, it made sense why they kept so much around. All of the supplies were a very good quality, too. Far too nice to have just been made here in the Glade. 

"Did the Creators give you guys all those medical supplies?" Thomas asked curiously. 

Newt looked at him and nodded. "They give us pretty much anything we need. The concrete buildings were already built when were first arrived, they gave us basic cooking supplies, gardening tools, weapons, running water, electricity. We never would have made it without that stuff. There was already a few medicine supplies at the start, so we've had to ask for more in the past."

"Wait," Thomas said suddenly, "you _asked_ for more supplies? How?!"

"If we write a note of something we need and drop it in the box before it goes down, whatever we asked for usually shows up in the next round of supplies." Newt answered. 

Thomas' pace slowed without him realizing it as he took in this information. He couldn't believe that the Creators would just send up whatever they asked for. But then an interesting thought began to cross his mind. "Have you ever asked for something that the Creators _didn't_ end up sending in the box?"

Newt, with a thoughtful look on his face, paused before answering. "As you could probably guess, we asked for supplies that could give us an advantage in getting out of the maze. Ladders, maps, weapons. We wrote loads of notes for that, but received nothing...so we made our own. They haven't been as helpful as we would like, though."

"What about _fun_ stuff?" Thomas asked, an intrigued smile growing on his face. 

"Well there was this one time that Minho asked for a tele with video games," Newt said with a chuckle.

Thomas broke out in laughter, making it hard for him to talk at the same time, "Wait, really?" 

Newt, upon hearing Thomas' laugh, began to laugh even harder as well. "You should've seen the devastated look on his face when the box showed up that next week with nothing." 

Thomas shook his head, picturing the scene. His smile grew even wider when he looked at Newt to see him laughing as well. He looked much better than he did a few minutes before, and Thomas was really glad. Seeing Newt happy made him happy too.

When they reached breakfast, Thomas and Newt sat at a small table with Zart and Chuck. They all ate and talked, being careful not to bring up anything about Ben. It was hard to accept, but Chuck was right. They had no choice but to just forget about Ben. Nobody has ever survived a night in the maze before, so the Gladers all knew that Ben was long gone. But Thomas still sat wondering if Ben was out there right now, still alive, trying to make his way back before the doors shut again. But what would be left of him after the Changing and a night with the Grievers? Even though he didn't like it, Thomas knew the answer.

After some time, Chuck was called out to start work. Newt decided to head out to the gardens not long after. He stood, grabbing his empty plates and dirty silverware.

"I'll see you later, Tommy. And I'll see you in a few minutes, Zart." Newt said as he turned and walked away.

Thomas had only talked to Zart once, and it was yesterday in the gardens. But, he did seem like a very down-to-earth person and Thomas felt more comfortable around him than he did some of the others. Especially compared to Gally. The two sat in silence for a few moments, then Zart spoke up.

"I've noticed Newt has changed in the last few days," Zart started. Thomas looked up at the mention of Newt. Zart noticed this and continued, "He seems a little...happier than did before."

Thomas just stared at Zart, waiting to see if there was any more he was going to say. Where was he going with this? "How so?" Thomas asked.

"I don't know, he's more talkative, seems less tired." Zart said.

Thomas paused. "I mean, that's good I guess. But why are you telling me this?"

Zart shrugged. "He likes talking to you. I've never seen him smile as much as he has when he's talking with you."

Thomas just stared again before raising his eyebrows. "Really?"

Zart nodded, "Just something I noticed, thought I'd share."

"Okay...Well, I should probably get going. I'm with the Med-jacks today." Thomas said, standing.

"Seeya, Greenie." Zart said as Thomas walked out of the building and towards the homestead. Thomas replayed the conversation he just had with Zart in his head while he walked. It just seemed so random, and Thomas was really confused. But as he thought about it more, Thomas felt good about the idea of making Newt feel happier. He really enjoyed Newt's company, and they'd both had a lot of time to talk since Thomas arrived in the box. Even though they only met that same week, Thomas felt much closer with Newt and he easily could call him a good friend.

Thomas arrived at the homestead and quickly found Clint outside one of the med rooms. "Hey, Clint."

Clint turned and frowned, "Is your neck hurting again?"

"What? Oh, no. Alby put me with the Med-jacks today." Thomas replied.

Clint smiled, "Oh, well that's good. Come on in and I'll show you what all we do."

Thomas followed Clint into one of the empty rooms. Clint showed him the stock of medicines that they have collected over the years. It was an impressive collection of antibiotics, vitamins, and other supplements. It looked like they were prepared to handle almost anything. The two also discussed what kinds of injuries and sicknesses are most common, and Thomas wasn't surprised to hear that a lot of people twist their ankles. The Gladers do a lot of running. But out of all the jobs, Clint said the Slicers are the ones most likely to get hurt. Just like Newt had said. Some of them are not the best with knives, and that's because most Slicers were chosen for the job due to their ability to hold their stomach while working. Illness in the Glade wasn't typically a problem, just the occasional food poisoning or sinus headache. With the exception of the girl, of course.The mention of the girl caught Thomas' attention. He'd almost forgotten she was here.

After a while the boys entered the girl's room, where she laid quietly on her bed. Clint picked up the glass of water on the nearby table and gently placed it against her mouth. Slowly, he guided the water past her lips until she drank the entire glass. Clint turned to Thomas.

"We give her four large glasses of water to drink a day, plus liquid foods like soup. It's gotten easier to feed her now, but we did spill a few times on the first day..." Clint trailed off.

"So there's been no change with her?" Thomas asked.

"Nope. She mumbles in her sleep sometimes, but it's usually just your name or something we can't understand." Clint answered.

Thomas looked shocked. "She's still saying my name?"

Clint nodded. "She definitely remembers _something_ about you. Have you recognized anything about her yet?"

Thomas studied the girl. He wanted so bad to remember her, but he felt nothing. No recognition. He hoped that over time, something would click in his mind. "No, nothing."

As the morning passed, Clint finished his lesson for Thomas. Thomas was just starting to walk out when one of the Slicers came in, his left arm wrapped in a bloody towel.

"Hey there, Clint..." The boy said. Based on the sheepish look on his face, this wasn't the first time he'd been in.

"Again?" Clint asked, "that's the second time this month!"

The boy shrugged and Clint led him to the nearby med room. Thomas decided to stay and help by handing tools to Clint as he worked. Thomas watched, but he didn't like it. It wasn't as bad as his time in the bloodhouse, but all of the blood and stitches still grossed him out. Thomas was pretty sure it was safe to say he could cross Med-jack off the list after that.


	11. Gone

By the time they were finished in the med room, lunch had passed and it was early afternoon. Thomas excused himself and headed over to the dining hall to meet Frypan. He walked quickly, since he was already running a few minutes late. Thomas walked in to the sight of a small group of Gladers cleaning the counters and getting out dinner supplies. It looked like he arrived just in time. Thomas scanned the room until he spotted Frypan, and made his way over to him. 

"Frypan!" Thomas said as the keeper spotted him approaching, "Looks like I'm with you guys for the rest of the day."

"Alright, Green-bean! I'll show you around." Frypan replied with a friendly smile. The keeper walked Thomas around the kitchen, showing him the different areas while describing the jobs that go with them. Thomas didn't realize how much work went into making each meal, and he found himself with a new respect for all the cooks. They made it look so easy. After making a full circle, Frypan guided Thomas to an empty station where a basket of vegetables and a cutting board sat. "We're making vegetable soup for dinner, so I could use an extra hand dicing some of these here."

"Sounds easy enough," Thomas said. Frypan patted his back with a laugh and walked towards the front of the kitchen. Thomas took out a carrot and grabbed a nearby knife. Careful not to slice his own fingers, Thomas diced the carrot. He was a little slow at it, but Thomas was satisfied with how it turned out. He moved on to the other vegetables an did the same. It took him a little longer than the others who were chopping food, but Thomas finished his basket just in time to add them to the soup.

Thomas grabbed his dirty knife and cutting board to the sink and washed them off before putting them back where he found them. He grabbed his basket of diced food and took it to Frypan, who was stirring a very large pot. Frypan looked over, and took the basket Thomas handed to him. The keeper studied the basket's contents before dumping them all into the soup. "Nice, work Greenie. Wanna help me start servin'?"

"Sure." Thomas said.

Frypan had the Greenie stand next to him as he poured the soup into a bowl. Thomas swapped Frypan an empty bowl for a full bowl, and then handed the full bowl to the next Glader in line. This carried on for a while, and Thomas was doing pretty well keeping up with Frypan. But when Thomas saw Newt approaching in the line, he frowned with concern. The blonde didn't look like himself at all. Something was definitely wrong.

Newt didn't even look at Thomas when he received his soup and went to sit at a corner table alone. Thomas looked a Frypan, and he looked back with the same look of concern.

"Hey Thomas," Frypan said. This caught the boy off guard for a moment. This was one of the first times someone besides Newt or Chuck had called Thomas something other than 'Greenie' or 'Green-bean.' "Can you go check on Newt for me? He didn't look right. I can finish up here."

"Okay," Thomas said as he walked around the counter with his own bowl of soup, walking quickly to get to Newt. He approached Newt's table quietly and sat down next to him. Fear began to creep up inside Thomas as he took in Newt's face for the first time. The boy's eyes looked a little bloodshot, and his face was paler than normal. It looked like he'd just pulled an all-nighter.

"Hey," Thomas said softly. Newt looked up at him but didn't say anything. "Are you okay?"

"I'm bloody fine, Tommy." Newt said sharply. He looked back down at his food but made no attempt to eat it.

"No you're not," Thomas said, scooting a little closer. He knew Newt too well to know that he was lying. Just as Newt had done to him the day before, Thomas reached up and soothingly rubbed Newt's shoulder to try to calm him down. "Tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help."

Newt took in a deep breath and sighed as he instinctively relaxed under Thomas' hand. Slowly, he turned his head to look back at Thomas. "It's Minho and Alby. They should've been back by now."

Surprised, Thomas looked around the room to see that Newt was right. Usually, all of the runners were back in time for dinner, but both Alby and Minho were nowhere to be found. "They're probably on their way back right now," Thomas said calmly, "It's still light out, and they have plenty of time to make it back. You don't have to worry." He understood why Newt would be concerned, but Thomas knew Alby and Minho were able to take care of themselves. That made him not worry.

"I know," Newt said sadly, "but it's definitely not like Minho to be late like this. He's _always_ back by now..."

"Everyone has their off days," Thomas said as positively as he could, "I'm sure they're fine."

"How can you be sure?" Newt asked quietly, staring at nothing. His face looked blank although his mind was probably racing. 

"Well, I guess I can't be sure," Thomas said slowly, trying to think of the right words to say, "But I can always hope. Hope is the next best thing." Thomas said as he softly squeezed Newt's shoulder in reassurance. 

Newt contemplated Thomas' words. Slowly, he looked up as a weak smile formed on his lips, "I guess you're right...I'm still worried for them, though."

Thomas smiled back, glad to see Newt had agreed with what he said. He softly patted Newt's back before speaking with a concerned voice, "You should eat."

"I can't eat right now." Newt with almost a pained whisper. 

"Newt," Thomas said as he pulled his hand away, "please eat."

The blonde looked up at Thomas' eyes and saw nothing but concern. He sighed. Newt didn't mean to worry Thomas, and felt bad for doing so. Slowly, Newt complied and picked up his spoon to take a few sips of soup. Thomas didn't touched his own food until he made sure Newt was eating. 

"Okay," Newt said after many small spoonfuls of soup, "I'm too nervous to eat anymore."

Thomas looked to see that Newt's soup bowl was half empty. That was much better than nothing. "Thanks for eating," Thomas said as he picked up both of their dishes.

"Thank you for hoping." Newt replied with a meaningful look. Thomas smiled, and the two walked out of the hall after putting their dishes away.

As more time passed, Thomas could feel the tension growing around the Glade. At this point, _everyone_ had figured out that Minho and Alby weren't back yet. It was fairly difficult not to be worried at this point, considering the doors were going to close in just fifteen minutes. A crowd of boys began to form at the open door, nobody saying a word. They all sat there silently, watching for any signs of movement within the maze. As Thomas looked passed the doors, he was reminded of his desire to enter the maze. And here he was right at the edge, and all he had to do was take just a few steps.

Thomas' thoughts were interrupted when a far of rumbling sound came from the maze. It was starting to change, meaning that the doors could start to close any minute. And Thomas couldn't believe what happened next. One by one, the Gladers turned back and walked away towards the Glade. They'd given up and had already accepted defeat. Less than a minute passed before Thomas, Newt, and Chuck were the only ones left. 

"They're gone," Newt said in a strained voice. It didn't sound like him.

"We don't know that yet," Thomas said, despite his inner thoughts. Thomas hated himself for thinking that Newt was probably right.

"Looks like hope wasn't good enough, Tommy," Newt said as he shared a defeated look with Thomas. Slowly, he turned to Chuck and mumbled, "Come on, Chuckie." The two shared a solemn look as Newt turned away, eyes glistening. Chuck wore a desperate but sad expression. He glanced back at Thomas once more before walking behind Newt. Now, Thomas was alone.

The rumbling sounds of the maze were almost at the Glade. Then suddenly, the familiar boom of the doors sounded through the open doors. Thomas gasped and frantically scanned the maze for someone. Something. _Anything_. Thomas began to panic when the heavy stone doors began to slide inwards towards each other. But then he froze. Something was out there. A far off figure, moving towards the glade. Thomas squinted and could see Minho struggling to carry an unconscious Alby on his back. It took Thomas a moment to snap out of his shock. 

"HEY!" Thomas shouted, "THEY'RE HERE I CAN SEE THEM!"

Newt snapped his head back to the closing doors. He'd only made it partway back to the homestead and was now running back to Thomas as fast as his limp would allow. Thomas watched Minho and the closing door, and quickly judged that he wasn't going to make it in time. Desperate to help, Thomas quickly knew what he had to do. He wasn't about to let any more people die in that maze. Adrenaline began to pulse through his body as he readied himself to run. 

Thomas looked back towards Newt one last time, who was still a good distance away. And in that moment, Newt sensed what Thomas was thinking and he could feel his heart drop. "No..." He gasped as he ran even faster towards the doors, straining his body to do so. "DON'T YOU DO IT, TOMMY. DON'T YOU BLOODY DO IT!" Pain began to shoot up Newt's bad leg as he pushed himself to run even faster.

 _I'm sorry, Newt_ Thomas thought as he turned back to face the maze. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before dashing between the two closing slabs of rock. Newt stopped abruptly, trying to catch his ragged breath as he processed what just happened. Minho and Alby were alive. The doors were closing. Thomas ran in after them. Thomas was gone. 

_Thomas was gone._


	12. Night

Thomas sprinted towards Minho and Alby with all of his strength, and had to dive in order to make it past the closing doors in time. He landed on the hard ground with a thud as one final loud boom sounded through the maze. Quickly, he turned to see Alby on the ground and Minho on his knees, out of breath. The keeper looked up at Thomas.

"Congrats," Minho said in between gasps for breath, "You just killed yourself."

Thomas stared at him, "What?"

"Don't you get it? The doors closed. We're already dead." Minho snapped, falling forward onto his hands in exhaustion. 

Thomas couldn't believe what Minho was saying. How could he just give up like that? In anger, Thomas chose to ignore Minho's words of defeat and made his way over to Alby. "What happened? Did he get stung?"

Minho coughed before answering, "Yeah."

"What's wrong with his head?" Thomas asked, seeing a bloody bump on the leader's forehead.

"I had no choice," Minho groaned as he strained to stand up.

Thomas looked back and forth between the two, thinking. They needed move before it got dark and find a safe place for Alby to stay during the night. "We need to move him," Thomas nodded towards Alby.

Minho raised a questioning eyebrow. "There's nowhere to go."

Thomas shook his head in denial. There had to be a way out of this. As he continued to think, Thomas' thoughts drifted to the Gladers on the other side of the doors. As slim as his chances were, he chose not to give up. For Alby and Minho, for all the other Gladers...for Newt. He didn't want anyone else to die, especially when he could actually do something to try and stop it.

"Well we can't just stay here. Come on," Thomas said as he attempted to pick Alby up by himself. Minho watched him, shocked. Even after everything he'd said to the Greenie, the boy still chose to fight. He'd never seen anything like it. Minho sighed and walked over to the other side of the unconscious boy and lifted him up. Thomas nodded to Minho in thanks before they both set out into the maze. Slowly, the two walked deeper into the maze, turning corner after corner. But, the two didn't make much farther with Alby before they tripped and fell to the ground.

"This isn't working," Minho said with an annoyed voice, "and it's almost sundown. We have to leave him."

Thomas didn't answer. He stared at Alby and then looked around at their surroundings. _There has to be something here we could use,_ Thomas thought. Thomas' eyes suddenly stopped on the ivy vines and he frowned, ideas starting to connect inside his head. He turned to Minho to see him staring at the same place. They locked eyes for a moment before silently deciding to take action. Quickly but carefully, they tied the longer vines around Alby's arms, legs, and torso. Together the lifted Alby up onto the wall by pulling down on the vines, and continued to do so until he was halfway up the stone ledge. Thomas was about to tie the vines off when a far off clicking noise made them freeze. Minho looked around the corner and quickly jerked back, "There's one coming this way."

"Shuck," Thomas whispered, "Come on Minho we're almost done."

"We have to GO," Minho whispered with a shaky voice, peeking around the corner again. The Griever was moving quickly and would soon reach them if they didn't move now.

"Hold on," Thomas snapped, pulling even harder on the ivy vines.

Minho shook his head, "Sorry Greenie." He let go of the vines and took off around the corner. Thomas struggled to hold Alby's weight on his own, but he was able to tie the vines off after a few moments. When he was done, Thomas turned to leave and froze at what he saw. A Griever was just ten feet away from him, preparing to pounce. It looked absolutely frightening. The creature resembled a Beetle Blade in essence, but it was a hundred times larger and had slimy flesh with spikes along its body. Fear flooded his entire body as he took in the sight. 

Thomas could feel a sudden burst of adrenaline rush through him as his breath quickened and he turned to run. As he picked up speed, he could he loud metal clanging behind him. He knew better than to turn around. Thomas just ran and ran, rounding as many corners and climbing as many ledges as he could to lose the Griever. Nothing worked, but Thomas didn't stop. He pushed himself to run even faster for what felt like an eternity before running directly into something, hard. Thomas whipped around to see Minho a few feet away, painfully rubbing his shoulder.

Thomas was about to speak when the clanging behind him grew closer. He turned to see the Griever charging towards him, but he held his ground. Minho quickly got up and ran to another end of the stone hallway, and turned back to see that Thomas wasn't behind him. 

"Thomas, what are you doing?" Minho shouted with his hands cupped around his mouth, "Get out of the way!"

"Not yet," Thomas said, bending his knees and putting his arms out in front of him. He waited, staring down the Griever until it was a few feet away. At the last moment, Thomas bent down and dove towards the ground and rolled, evading the Griever's path. The creature couldn't stop in time and ran face-first into one of the walls, sending cracks up the stone in all directions. It squealed a metallic screech as it struggled to stand back up.

Minho, who'd witnessed the whole thing, suddenly came up with an idea. "Thomas, I have an idea. Follow me, come on!"

Thomas ran right behind Minho, the weakened Griever trailing behind them. They ran even faster after realizing that more Grievers had joined in the chase. Minho risked a quick glance behind them to see that they were now being pursued by four metallic creatures. They pushed themselves to their limits as they continued to run on and on. Eventually the two boys reach what looked like the edge of the maze, except it wasn't. There was nothing there, just black emptiness beyond the edge of a stone cliff.

"What..." Thomas started, but Minho shushed him quiet.

"Stand next to me," the keeper said, "and wait until the Grievers gets close."

Thomas did as he was told, completely understanding where Minho was going with this. As the Grievers drew closer, the two waited, just like Thomas had earlier. Thomas waited patiently for Minho's signal, which he gave just as the Grievers balled up and began to roll towards them at a high speed. They were just a few feet apart when Minho yelled, "NOW!"

Both boys quickly dove out of the way, and snapped their heads back to see the first two Grievers roll of the cliff. The third tried to stop, but had no luck. The fourth Griever realized what was happening, and stuck a metal arm in the ground to stop. Thomas and Minho shared a quick, knowing look before running up behind the Griever and kicking it in the back. The creature screeched in terror as it tumbled off the edge of the cliff.

And then, silence.

Frozen, Thomas stood there in complete shock. His mind was trying to register everything he'd just done as he slowly lowered himself to the ground. Thomas' body weakened as he felt the adrenaline fading away, and his hands began to shake as he curled into a ball. Then, all at once, the terror of the near-death experiences that Thomas had just been through all came down on him. Thomas cried. He cried for a long time. Gasps of air escaped his mouth at an uneven rate as Thomas failed at trying to settle himself down. Tears continued to run down his face as he tried to steady his breathing. He didn't move for hours.

As time passed and the sky began to lighten again, Thomas was able to stop the tears and he sat up. He squinted over at Minho, hoping that the boy wouldn't laugh at him for how much he'd cried. But Minho did nothing of the sort. He sat a ways away leaning against a wall, his knees pulled tightly into his chest. His head was resting on top of his knees so Thomas couldn't see his face. Thomas stood and made his way over to the runner, kneeling in front of him. Minho, who'd heard Thomas coming, looked up. Thomas was taken aback by what he saw. Minho had a large gash on his forehead and left eyebrow, just missing his eye. The final Griever must have cut him while the two were kicking it off of the ledge. Minho clearly didn't attend to it, considering that blood ran all the way down his face, staining his left eye a deep crimson.

"Minho, you're hurt," Thomas said with a weak voice as he studied the keeper's face.

"What?" Minho asked as he reached up to where Thomas was staring and stroked his face with his hand. He pulled it back to see it covered in blood, and his eyes grew wide, "Oh..."

Thomas reached out to help, but Minho reached up and stopped him. "I just wanna get back," Minho said, his voice emotionless, "I'll worry about it later."

Minho stood and offered a shaky hand to Thomas. The boy hesitantly took it and Minho pulled him up with a groan. Slowly, the two survivors made their way back to the doors. The two stared at each other for a while, having a silent conversation. They were trying to accept what they had just been through, and that they both survived. Minho's expression soon softened and he reached out to Thomas and patted the Greenie on the back. A smile grew on his face. Thomas felt himself starting to smile too. Weak laughs soon escaped from both of them. It finally sunk in that they'd done it. They survived a night in the maze. They did what nobody else had done before.

Their sore and cut up bodies only allowed them to move so fast, but the two boys excitedly made their way back to the Glade. They did what was thought to be impossible, and it felt pretty good. But all Thomas could think about now was getting back to Newt. He remembered how he'd left Newt just as the doors were closing, and knew he needed to get back as soon as he could. But after last night, Thomas knew he did the right thing. All he needed was a little bit of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just wanted to take a minute to thank everyone who has read and given me feedback on this work, it means so much! I'm so glad that you all seem to enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it. Thanks again <3


	13. Hope (Newt's POV)

_"DON'T YOU DO IT, TOMMY! DON'T YOU BLOODY DO IT!"_

Newt screamed as loud as he could. His bad leg burned like it never had before, begging Newt to stop running. But he stubbornly ignored it, continuing to sprint towards the closer doors. From a distance, Newt could see Thomas turned back to face the maze. His heart dropped as he watched the boy quickly dash between the two closing slabs of stone. Newt slowed to stop, breathing raggedly, as he stared in hurt and shock at the maze. He was only a twenty feet away when the doors finally slammed shut.

Newt's stare at the doors glassed over as his exhausted leg finally gave out and he plummeted to the ground. Newt sat on his hands and knees, trembling, while staring at the grass beneath him. His vision began to blur and it became much harder for him to breathe. _This can't be happening_ Newt frantically thought to himself as he felt his throat begin to clench up. He tried to slow his breathing, but failed. So he just sat there. 

Other Gladers heard the commotion and they all began to gather at the closed doors. Chuck was one of the first ones there since he was the closest to the doors other than Newt.

"Newt?" Chuck asked as he spotted Newt on the ground. As he approached, Chuck looked around to see that Newt was alone. The others didn't make it back. Chuck's stomach twisted in pain as he walked up to Newt. Tears began to fill his eyes. "Newt?"

The blonde didn't move. Chuck got down on the ground and tried to look underneath Newt so he could see his face. From the corner of his eye, Newt saw Chuck's worried expression and slowly sat up, his hands still visibly shaking. "They're all in t-there," Newt said as tears began to run down his face. By now, almost all of the Gladers were almost at the door, and they quickly realized what happened when they saw Newt on the ground. They all stood in silence, unsure of what to do or say. Three people had just been sentenced to death. Something like this had _never_ happened before.

"I can't l-lose them," Newt cried shakily, "I c-can't lose all t-three of them."

Chuck rubbed his hand on Newt's back soothingly, trying to calm him down. It was hard to do considering Chuck was crying himself. The other Gladers stood watching the scene. And then, just like before, they slowly began to walk away. Except this time was different, not one person had dry eyes. Everyone mourned for their leader, Minho, and Thomas. Things really did start to seem like they were falling apart.

After some time, only Newt, Zart, Frypan, and Winston remained. Newt never moved from where he was. The three keepers shared a concerned look with each other. Zart nodded at Frypan and Winston, and they turned and slowly walked off. Zart approached Newt and kneeled down next to him.

"We're going to bed," Zart said. It was completely dark out with the exception of some torches that sat scattered across the Glade. "You should come, too."

"No," Newt snapped, "I'm not leaving them."

Zart sighed, "You have to let them go, Newt."

"I can still hope," Newt said, thinking of what Thomas said to him as he spoke. He knew that Thomas would want him to hope they would survive and to not give up. These were Newt's closest friends. There was nothing else he could do to help. He'd known Alby and Minho from the start, and Newt already considered Thomas to be one of his best friends. Closer than a friend, even. There was no way he was going to lose faith in them. Not even now.

"I know what they mean to you, Newt," Zart said with a soft voice, "I know what _he_ means to you."

Newt's head shot up to look directly at Zart, his eyes full of both surprise and pain. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

Zart reached up and placed one hand on each of Newt's shoulders to steady him. He spoke with a pained voice as his eyes teared up slightly. "I'm sorry Newt. I'm so sorry. But you have to move on. As much as I don't want to say it, they belong to the maze, now. If there was more we could do, you know we'd do it in a heartbeat."

"I know," Newt jerked his shoulders away, and gave Zart a sad look before turning back towards the closed doors. "I'm not giving up on them. I'm staying here."

Zart stared at the boy, understanding there would be no way to convince him otherwise. "Okay," he said as he slowly stood and trudged away. Then Newt was alone.

For the first time since the incident, Newt moved from his spot and walked over towards the doors. He reached out and placed a hand gently on the cold, rigid stone. "Please come back."

Newt, not wanting to cry again, sat against the walls and closed his eyes. He knew he probably wouldn't sleep much tonight, but his body had exhausted all of its energy. But sleep didn't come easy with his racing mind. Newt tried to stop thinking, but his couldn't escape the thoughts of Thomas, Minho and Alby dying in the maze. He wondered if they were still alive right now. What they were doing. Where they were. How close they were to death if it hadn't already found them yet. 

Newt had known Alby and Minho since day one. They were always there for each other an now, Newt couldn't do anything to help. He felt awful. Alby was the one who always kept an eye on Newt, since he was the only one who truly knew what happened that one day with Newt in the maze. Alby worried about him sometimes, but Newt always told him that he was okay. His heart sunk when he realized that if Alby didn't make it back, he would have to take his place as leader of the Glade. If it came to that, Newt honestly didn't know if he could do it. Then there was Minho. Even though he didn't know what really happened to Newt, he still worried sometimes. He was the one to try and cheer Newt up when he was sad, and it usually worked. Newt was beyond thankful to have both of them as friends.

And Thomas. Newt _really_ liked Thomas. They'd spent so much time together these last few days and have gotten to know each other very well. They quickly developed a strong, instinctive trust with one another and both of them feel so comfortable and relaxed when they're together. But now, Thomas, Alby, and Minho were all in a deathtrap. And there was nothing he could do but sit there and wait for his three closest friends to face the maze alone. 

Despite all that happened today, Newt ended up sleeping pretty well since he'd exhausted himself so much with worrying. He slept almost completely through the night undisturbed. When he woke, he saw Chuck next sitting next to him.

"What are you doing here, Chuck?" Newt asked as his eyes adjusted to the light. 

Chuck looked over with tired and sad eyes. "Couldn't sleep."

"I'm surprised I did at all." Newt said with a tired voice.

"...You think they're out there?" Chuck asked quietly, a hint of hope in his voice.

Newt closed his eyes. "I don't know, Chuckie."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun come up. They stood as a few other Gladers made their way to the door. It looked like nobody got a good night's sleep. The group stood impatiently waiting for the doors to open. Newt could feel the tension between everyone as the Glade rumbled and the doors began to move. Newt held his breathe as he felt his heartbeat grow faster and faster. His hands got sweaty and he started to breathe more heavily again. This was it.

As the doors opened, Newt frantically stepped up to the gap and his heart dropped at what he saw. Nothing. Nobody was there. Newt slowly took a few steps forward and squinted into the maze. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he couldn't see them yet. But as every agonizing second passed, Newt began to realize that they weren't coming back. They were gone. All three of them, dead. Killed. Newt had never felt more alone than he did in this moment.

Newt sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving the maze. He needed to hope, like Thomas told him to do. But Newt didn't think he could anymore. He slowly brought his hands to his face, covering the tears that quickly began to fall. _This isn't real. It can't be,_ Newt thought to himself. He didn't move his hands, but he could hear the sniffs and gasps behind him as the other Gladers realized the three didn't make it.

Newt didn't know what to do. He sat there, in shock and in pain. His body shook as he cried for his friends, who he couldn't protect. Now, the burden of everything fell to Newt. He knew that he would have to, with a heavy heart, accept the leadership position of the Glade. The Gladers needed somebody to look up to in times like this, but right now, Newt didn't know if he could be that person. Here he sat on the ground, mourning his dead friends as tears rolled down his cheeks. How could anyone look up to that?

"Newt."

Newt didn't move. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Not now. Not while he was like this.

"Newt," the same voice said. Suddenly, Newt felt two hands grab his own, which were still covering his face. He could feel his hands being gently pulled away. Newt looked up with tear-filled eyes and gasped. 

It was Thomas.

Newt froze. He felt so many different things at once. Happiness for seeing Thomas, confusion as to how he was alive, anger at him for running into the maze. "What the bloody hell happened?" Newt snapped harshly, but immediately regretted it when he saw a look of hurt flash across Thomas' face.

Thomas started to answer, but he was cut off as Newt pulled him into a tight embrace. Thomas paused for a moment before wrapping his arms around Newt. Newt quickly buried his face into Thomas' shoulder. "I'm sorry," Thomas whispered into Newt's ear. 

Newt slowly pulled away, looking furious but relieved at the same time. "You should be, after putting us all through that."

Thomas looked at the ground with guilt, "I'm sorry I just...I couldn't just sit back and not do anything, I-"

Newt cut him off and gave him an understanding look, "I know." Newt stood and offered Thomas a hand. Thomas took it, and groaned in pain as he tried to stand. Newt squeezed his hand before letting go. "I'm really glad you made it, Tommy."

Thomas looked at Newt with an exhausted smile, "Me too."

Newt looked over Thomas' shoulder to see Minho, blood still running down his face. He rushed over to the keeper's side to examine his face. "Oh my god, Minho, are you alright?"

Minho shrugged and smirked, "I've been better."

Newt smiled and shook his head before shouting for the Med-jacks. "You, Minho, are one lucky shank," Newt said before patting the runner's shoulder and pulling him in for a quick embrace. 

"Who're you calling a shank, shank?" Minho laughed before playfully punching him back.

Newt laughed too, but he stopped as he realized that Alby was not there. "...Where's Alby?"

Minho saw the worry on Newt's face and quickly reassured him. "Don't worry, Newt. He's fine. We just need a little help, um...getting him down."

Newt raised his eyebrows, "Getting him down?"

"Just come on," Minho said, "you'll see. Lead the way, Thomas."

Thomas stepped forward and nodded at Newt and Minho before walking into the maze. He, along with Minho, were far too sore to do any more running. The three rounded a few corners before Thomas stopped and put his hands on his hips. He faced one of the walls, and looked up towards the top of it. Newt followed his eyes and saw a figure halfway up one of the ivy walls. He studied it closely and gasped when he could make out Alby, unconscious and almost completely wrapped in vines.

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Newt muttered " _you_ did that?"

Thomas nodded. "All we have to do to get him down is to untie that vine there," Thomas paused to gesture towards one of the thicker vines before going on, "and I think we'll need all three of us to guide him down slowly."

Newt and Minho both agreed and they all worked quickly to get Alby down. Everything went perfectly as Thomas and Minho slowly lowered the leader into Newt's arms. Together, they all carried him back to the entrance to the glade. News quickly spread of Thomas and Minho's battle with four grievers. And now that all of the excitement from the reunions were over, Thomas and Minho were beginning to feel their tiredness taking over. The two toppled over on the grass with droopy eyes. Clint and Jeff offered them plenty of water, which they gladly accepted. Once they were finished, the Med-jacks helped guide the two boys towards the homestead. They were led into one of the larger med rooms, which held two beds.

Minho had his face cleaned and the cut on his forehead was stitched up by Jeff. At the same time, Clint carefully clean out all of Thomas' cuts and scrapes to prevent infection and bandaged them up with ease. By the time they were finished, both Minho and Thomas had arms and legs full of small band-aids and wraps. And finally, after such a long and terror-filled night, Thomas and Minho were able to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: I'm a little behind, so the next update probably won't be until a week from now. Thanks for reading<3


	14. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sending my thoughts to Dylan O'Brien, who was recently injured while filming on set of The Death Cure. Here's to a speedy recovery, Dylan. Your health is what matters most!

The two rested for hours without moving at all. Clint, worried about their lack of movement, came in multiple times to make sure they were both still breathing. He knew not to be concerned, the boys were just so exhausted. Their bodies needed to gain some energy. As the day passed by, life returned to normal throughout the Glade. Alby, Minho, and Thomas were all back, and everyone was relieved. Things started to look like they were going to be okay from now on. It wasn't until the sky began to darken until Chuck came in to wake Thomas and Minho up. In his hands was a tray full of warm food, as well as two drinks.

Chuck entered the room as quietly as he could and placed the food tray on a nearby table. He went to Thomas' side first and gently shook him, "Hey, Thomas. Wake up."

Thomas groaned and turned his head the other way on the pillow before mumbling into it, "You shuck-face."

"Well you've slept all day, and there's no way you're not starving after all you've been through," Chuck said. "Come on, wake up."

Thomas reached up to rub his eyes before looking at Chuck. He saw the young boy had a plate full of food in his hands, holding it out towards Thomas. It wasn't until now that Thomas realized how hungry he was. He couldn't even remember the last time he ate anything. Thomas scooped up the plate and slowly sat up in bed. Sighing with content, Thomas took a bite out of his warm food. He needed this. "Thanks Chuck," Thomas said with a full mouth, "This is amazing."

"Told ya," Chuck smiled before waking Minho and giving him his dinner. Chuck sat, watching the two boys devour their meals. He'd never seen someone eat so quickly before. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I have to ask, did you guys really kill four grievers?!"

Thomas smirked and nodded. Minho laughed before saying, "We knocked the klunk out've them."

Chuck's eyes widened in admiration at the two. To kill one griever was unheard of, so killing four was mind-boggling. Impossible. Unthinkable. And yet, the two managed to do it and still survive the ordeal. 

"Hey Chuck," Minho said as he piled more food into his mouth, "How's Alby?"

Chuck grew more serious before answering. His eyes fell to the floor as he spoke, "He just started the Changing."

Thomas and Minho shared a nervous look. But at the same time they also felt relieved that they were able to get Alby back to the Glade, alive and in one piece. It sure wasn't easy to do. Sensing the two boys' sudden uneasiness, Chuck quickly changed the subject, "You two ready to get up?"

Minho nodded and became the first to attempt it. He swung his legs around the side of the bed and slowly put weight on his feet. His body was still quite exhausted, which made Minho feel fairly dizzy as he moved around. He had to keep his hand on the wall to stay balanced, but Minho was still able to stand and turn to Thomas. "Come on, I don't know how much longer I can stay in this shuck place."

Thomas did the same as Minho had, but fell back against the bed after trying to stand. He had a pounding headache. With one hand rubbing his head, Thomas stood again and the pain got worse. "This sucks," Thomas said as he slowly started to walk towards the door, still holding the wall with his free hand. The three started to walked out of the room when a piercing scream echoed down the hallway. Without anyone saying a word, they all knew it was Alby.

As the trio walked outside the homestead, a cool breeze of air blew past them. Minho took in a deep breath and let it out loudly, "Finally, some fresh air."

Thomas was surprised at how long they slept. The doors had already closed, and the sky was pretty dark. Some of the Gladers were already getting ready to go to sleep. He and Minho had quite literally slept the entire day away. Minho took another deep breathe before patting Thomas on the back. "Nice work out there, Greenie," he said as he took off towards the map room. Thomas smiled in return as he and Chuck made their way over towards the gardens. They always slept near there. And even though Thomas had just woken up, he was already quite ready to go back to sleep. 

Chuck sat down, watching Thomas as he slowly lowered himself to the ground with a groan. He took a few deep breaths before looking back at Chuck. He could see the worry in Chuck's eyes, so he decided decided to reassure him. "I'm just a little sore. That's all."

Chuck nodded and looked down. Something wasn't right. Chuck was usually the talkative one, certainly not Thomas. 

"Hey Chuck, you okay bud?" Thomas asked the young boy. He hated seeing Chuck like this. He was so protective of the kid, and he almost felt responsible for him.

Chuck looked up, "I'm just really happy that you made it back. Everyone was so worried about you guys."

"I didn't mean to worry everyone," Thomas said with some guilt.

"S'okay. I know you didn't mean to. But you still did. I waited for you guys by the doors for a while. Newt was there all night." Chuck said quietly.

All night? If Thomas didn't feel very guilty before, he definitely did now. Thomas felt awful for putting the Gladers through that. Especially Newt. He didn't realize how much worry and stress he brought onto them. "Sorry I made you worry, Chuck. But it's okay now, we're all fine."

"Yeah. You still look like a piece of klunk, though." Chuck said with a small hint of a smile.

Thomas laughed. There's the old Chuck. "Thanks, slinthead."

Chuck laughed loudly this time, and didn't stop.

"What?" Thomas asked, smiling.

"You sound funny when try and talking like that," Chuck said between laughs, "shank."

"Whatever you say, Chuck," Thomas said shaking his head, "You should get some sleep."

"Yeah, okay. G'night Thomas." Chuck said as he laid down under his blanket.

"Night, Chuck." Thomas said. He laid on his back, hands behind his head, staring at the sky. He'd just slept for an entire day, there was no way he'd be sleeping tonight, despite how tired his body felt. It took a long time for Thomas to fall asleep, and he was only able to do so for about an hour until he woke. As he did, Thomas looked around to see that everyone else in the glade had settled down for the night. A few minutes passed before his eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, and which allowed him to spot sudden movements in the distance. It looked like someone walking towards the forest.

Thomas, who knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, decided to take a walk in the same direction. As he approached the tree line, Thomas could make out a small figure curled up, leaning against a tree. Even though it was quite dark by the forest, he could immediately see who it was. Newt. Thomas walked up slowly until he was just a few feet away before speaking, "What are you doing out here?"

Newt jumped and glanced above him to see Thomas. He took a deep breath before replying, "I guess I could ask you the same."

Thomas walked over and sat a foot across from the blonde. "Sorry if I scared you. You okay?"

Newt looked at him a long time before answering. Thomas thought he could see a pained look in his eyes. "I dreamt you hadn't made it back," Newt answered, "I started to panic until I heard Alby's screams from down the hall and I knew that it wasn't real."

Thomas felt his heart drop. "Newt, I-"

"You all put me through a lot, Tommy."

Thomas looked down. He felt so incredibly bad. He wished there was more he could do. "Chuck told me you stayed at the doors all night."

"Yeah, I did. I couldn't just give up on you guys. I had to hope you'd come back."

Thomas recognized his own words that he'd told Newt the day before. He paused to let Newt continue.

"I tried to hope. But I couldn't keep away the thoughts of you three dying and I just-" Newt sniffed, "I didn't know what I was going to do if you didn't make it back."

Thomas thought about what he said. If the three of them had died in the maze, Newt would have to step up as the new leader. And, he'd be without a keeper of the runners. He'd be without two of his closest friends in the Glade. Then Thomas pictured himself dying and immediately thought of Newt and Chuck. They were his closest friends here, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt them.

"You know I'm sorry, Newt. I didn't want to hurt you, I just wanted to help." Thomas said desperately.

"I know why you bloody did it," Newt spat, "and don't get me wrong, I am thankful for what you did. But..."

Newt suddenly looked down, trying to hide his face. Thomas tilted his head, trying to see him. "But what?"

"I'll never be able to forget what it felt like knowing I may never see you again." Newt whispered.

Thomas didn't say anything. He couldn't even if he tried. His throat clenched up and it was as if he could actually feel his heart breaking. The guilt was unbearable. 

"Minho, Alby..." Newt paused and looked up so he could look Thomas in the eye "...you. You're all I have. And the thought of never seeing you agai-"

Newt was cut off by Thomas as he pulled the boy into a tight embrace. "I'm not going anywhere," Thomas said as he slowly stroked a comforting hand across his back. Newt was taken aback for a moment, surprised by Thomas' action. But it's what he needed. It's what both of them needed. Some time passed before Thomas could feel Newt grow less tense in his arms. He felt better himself, too. Having Newt with him made him feel like everything was alright.

Newt didn't move for a while. He became lost in thought until he eventually placed his forehead down on Thomas' shoulder. A small sigh left his mouth. He certainly hadn't expected anyone to join him tonight, but Newt was really glad it was Thomas. He felt so relaxed in Thomas' embrace, and he could tell that the boy felt genuinely sorry for making everyone worry so much. When Newt finally spoke, he didn't move from where he was.

"Hey Tommy?" Newt asked into Thomas' shoulder.

"Mm?"

"Don't ever bloody do anything like that again," Newt said, trying to sound stern, but Thomas could see right through it.

"I won't, promise," Thomas said quietly but truthfully as he reached up and placed a gentle hand on the back of Newt's head. This was a promise that Thomas desperately wanted to keep. 

They both stayed there for a while, talking every now and then. Both of them were much more relaxed than they were before, and it was really nice. Eventually, Newt fell asleep. It took Thomas slightly longer since he'd already slept so much that day. But before he drifted off, Thomas watched Newt. He tried to put himself in Newt's shoes, and imagined what it would be like to lose him to the maze. It was torture.

During his time in the Glade, Thomas spent more time with Newt than he did with any other Glader. They quickly developed an understanding of each other that nobody else had. They seemed to know what the other was thinking before they even said it. It was a strong connection. As he began to drift to sleep, Thomas noticed that he felt different about Newt than he did the others. He felt...closer to Newt. It just felt...right when he was with him.

As his racing mind began to settle down, Thomas eventually slept. He laid beside Newt for rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!! I get to update! It's been such a long week, so thanks to y'all for waiting so patiently :) And another thing, I just want to let you guys know that I've almost caught up to how much I've written so far. I'll need to take some time to write more so I don't fall too behind. With that being said, I'll probably continue to update only once a week until I have enough written to update more often. Thanks for your patience, and thanks for reading <3


	15. Gathering

Newt woke up first the following morning. He was always one of the first to wake in the Glade. He looked around, recalling how he'd went to the forest last night. Newt's eyes stopped when they landed on Thomas. He was asleep against the same tree Newt was leaning on, breathing quietly. Newt didn't want to wake him, especially after what had happened the day before, but today was important. The keepers were all going to hold a Gathering to determine what they should do with Thomas. He had broken the rules, after all.

Newt slowly stood and reached down and gently shook Thomas' shoulder. "Tommy, wake up."

The Greenie squeezed his eyes before opening them slowly. He hissed in pain as he sat up from where he was sleeping. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea sleeping on a tree after the day I had..." Thomas tried to stretch his neck and arms, but grimaced as he did so. Today was going to be a very long day. Thomas desperately hoped he wouldn't have to do too much walking today. Or moving in general. Everything hurt.

Newt could see the boy was struggling and offered Thomas a hand. Thomas gladly took it and Newt pulled him up. As soon as he was on his feet, Thomas immediately began to feel dizzy. In that moment he knew that shouldn't have stood so fast, he was still pretty weak. Thomas felt himself begin the sway, and his vision blurred as he tried to regain his balance. 

Newt reacted quickly and reached out with his free hand to catch Thomas' shoulder. He moved Thomas so he was standing straight up, but the Greenie's head fell forward. He had passed out. Newt carefully reached up with his left hand, while steadying Thomas with the other. He placed his hand on the back of Thomas' head and moved it so the boy was looking up again. "Tommy? Can you hear me?" No response. Newt slowly brought his hand forward so that it was resting against the side of Thomas' face. Newt leaned in, "Tommy?"

Thomas suddenly took in a quick breath before squinting his eyes open. As his vision came back into focus, he saw Newt staring at him with a concerned look. He looked around once more before realizing that Newt was actually the one holding him upright. "What just happened?" Thomas asked, confused.

"You bloody passed out on me," Newt said, still supporting Thomas, "Are you alright?"

Thomas blinked a few times before answering, "I did? Must've stood up too quickly, I guess."

"Are you sure that's all it was?" Newt asked as he unconsciously traced a circle with his thumb on Thomas' cheek. Thomas blushed and stilled at the movement. It didn't feel uncomfortable or anything, it was actually quite soothing. Before he could stop himself, Thomas leaned into Newt's touch. Newt stopped for a brief moment before tracing the boy's face again. "Well?" Newt asked very softly. After a moment of hesitation, Thomas nodded and Newt let go of him slowly. Thomas sighed at the loss of contact without even realizing he did so. 

"Alright, then. But if you start to feel light-headed again, let someone know, yeah?" Newt said.

"Okay, I will," Thomas answered, a little too quickly. They started to walk towards the homestead when he remembered that Alby was in one of the med rooms. He was the one that usually told Thomas what to do every day. "Wait, what am I gonna do today if Alby's out?"

Newt looked at him sheepishly, "I may have forgot to mention that the keepers are holding a Gathering to see what to do with you...and you need to be there."

"What?" Thomas asked, "What do you mean by 'to see what to do with me'?"

Newt sighed. He was just about to answer when a boom sounded through the Glade, signaling the start of the day. "Well you did break one of our rules. Nobody goes in the maze but runners, and you're not a runner."

"Are you saying I might be punished? For trying to save two people?" Thomas asked, completely shocked.

"Ridiculous, I know. But rules are rules, so we need to treat them as such," Newt said, "The last thing we need is people going mental over a Greenie runnin' about in the maze without permission. We need to maintain order."

Thomas could see Newt's point. He entered the maze without being a runner. It was a clear violation of one of the only rules in the Glade. And the last thing Thomas wanted to do was to get into any more trouble than he already was. He just really hoped that if he _did_ receive a punishment, it wouldn't be too harsh. He helped Minho and Alby survive the night after all, and he didn't deserve to be punished for that.

At breakfast, Newt carefully watched Thomas eat. Even though Thomas was probably just exhausted, Newt was still worried that he might pass out again. He needed more energy after going an entire day with only a few bites of food to eat. Thomas wanted to protest, saying he was fine, but he knew that Newt was just looking out for him. And Newt wasn't satisfied until Thomas finished his plate and drank all of the extra water that he gave him. Once they were both finished, they made their way to the homestead. Thomas was glad Newt had made him eat some extra food. Even after eating that much, he still felt exhausted. But, he did feel more alert than he did before. By tomorrow, he should be almost completely fine. 

The meeting started out with Thomas saying his piece. He just wanted people to know that he wanted to do the right thing, which was saving Minho and Alby. Anyone who ignored that to follow some stupid rule was out of their right minds. His speech, which dragged on for over five minutes, was followed by silence from all of the keepers. Eventually, Newt spoke up and began to ask each of the keepers what they had to say about the situation. 

The first half of the Gathering went by before Thomas realized it had even started. He must have been more tired than be thought. At that point, Thomas forced himself to stay awake enough to pay attention. He'd already gotten an explanation from Newt earlier that day, so now he just needed to hear the opinions of all the keepers. Thomas missed most of them, though. He snapped out of it just in time to hear the last few keepers speak.

"Why are we even talking about this?" Frypan said, "Yes, Thomas broke a rule but he saved two lives _and_ killed four grievers, according to Minho. Whatever Thomas has got, we need more of it."

Gally rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Are you kidding me? Do you even hear yourse-"

"GALLY," Newt shouted impatiently, "If you speak out of turn one more time, we'll banish your sorry shuck self. Now slim it. Who's next? Winston?"

"I don't know..." Winston spoke hesitantly, "Thomas broke one of most important rules. He at least needs some kind of punishment."

"Okay..." Newt said as he wrote Winston's suggestion down and ignored Gally's cheers. "Zart?"

Zart shifted in his chair before looking over at Thomas. He stared him down for a while before answering. "I think both of ya are right. In my eyes, Thomas did the right thing, even though that meant breakin' the rules. But he still has to face the consequences. But I don't think he needs any more punishment than what he's already had, a night in the maze was punishment in itself. So, that's already done."

"Interesting point, Zart," Newt said as he wrote it down, "Okay. So everyone has gone except for Minho and Gally, correct? Alright, Gally. Talk."

Gally stood abruptly out of his chair to face the other keepers. "This shank," he said, pointing to Thomas, "is nothing but trouble. He shows up, and now everything goes wrong. Everything. The girl. Ben. Alby. Now they're gone out there in the maze and KILLED four grievers. Before that, we coexisted with them just fine. How could you _not_ think this is all linked to him? It's clear that shank did this to all of us. He probably works for the Creators. I'll bet he's a spy for them."

Thomas had to hold back his laughter. As serious as this Gathering was, Thomas found Gally's accusation to be the funniest and most ludicrous thing he'd ever heard. Yeah, Gally was right in saying things are changing. But a spy? Really? Thomas could tell Minho felt the same when the runner had to cover his mouth and look down. "Okay, Gally," Minho stood and walked up to him, "I think that's enough out of you."

Newt pinched his nose, he knew where this was going. Sometimes, he felt like the only adult here. "Minho, pleas-"

"Back off, Minho. It's my turn. Or I swear I'll break this shank's shuck neck," Gally said, gesturing behind him towards Thomas.

Minho laughed and placed his hands on his hips, "No you won't."

Gally, in a furious rage, and reached up his right arm to punch Minho. But, Minho was quicker. He dodged Gally's swing and sent the builder flying backwards to the ground with a hard kick to the stomach. _Wow,_ Thomas thought, _I guess I'm not the only one who hates him that much._ Gally stood up, anger taking over his face. He pointed to Minho, then to Thomas. "You better watch yourselves," Gally said as he backed up towards the doorway, "I'm done with this." And then he left.

"Was that really necessary, Minho?" Newt asked, arms folded.

"Don't even try that with me. I know you were all wanting to do the same," Minho said, eyeing down each keeper as he took his seat.

"Just say your bit so we can get on with this," Newt said, "this Gathering is already a bloody disaster as it is."

Minho nodded, "Listen, I'm not gonna sweet talk it. When we were out there, Thomas was the one who tied Alby up and killed the Grievers. He should've been klunkin' his pants, but he ended up being the one to save us. All I did was run away when he needed my help. He's the best we've got." Minho paused before giving Thomas a trusting look. "I say we make this shuck-face Keeper of the Runners in my place."

Shouts of protest immediately filled the room. It took Newt an entire three minutes to quiet everyone down. "Okay, okay. We've heard everyone's opinions. We seem to have an even split of votes on two different options, so let's compromise. Thomas gets one day in the slammer for breakin' the rules, no food or water. And starting tomorrow, Thomas will officially be a runner." Newt turned to Minho, "A Greenie being made keeper is a little out of line. So we'll give him a month or so and see how things go from there. Is everyone in agreement?"

Thomas scanned the room to see a collection of nods from all of the keepers. Some of them didn't look as pleased as others, though. But Thomas didn't care. This was it, and he couldn't believe it was actually happening. Thomas had just become a runner, and it felt so right. He was actually really excited about it.

"Alright, you buggers are all dismissed," Newt said, resting his elbows on his legs. His head hung low in exhaustion. The keepers slowly cleared out. As Minho passed Thomas, he pat the new runner on the back with a smile. After that, only Newt and Thomas were left in the council room. Newt looked up and Thomas quickly made his way over to him. He reached out excitedly and grabbed Newt's shoulders with both hands, "Thank you, Newt. Thank you so much."

Newt sighed and smiled, "You're welcome, Tommy. Some of us aren't as happy about this, but they'll just have to deal with it."

"I won't let you guys down," Thomas said with a soft smile. Newt returned one, staring back at Thomas with a tired but pleased look. They didn't move until Chuck came barreling into the room. Thomas quickly let go of Newt with a blush and looked at the boy. Chuck stopped to look back and forth between the two with a curious look. It took him a moment to snap out of it.

"Med-jacks sent me," Chuck said quickly, "Alby is awake, thrashing and screaming. He's asking for Thomas."

"For me?" Thomas asked in complete shock. Why would Alby want to talk to him? He looked over at Newt, who had a very confused and worried look on his face.

"Well you're not going there without me," Newt said, "Come on." The three made their way out of the council room and towards the med rooms. They came to a stop at Alby's door. Thomas gave Newt a scared look before opening the door and walking in. Chuck left after they went in, not wanting to see Alby like this anymore. It scared him. Upon entering the room, Thomas and Newt saw Alby sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. He didn't move when the door opened.

"You need to leave, Newt," Alby said forcefully as he turned his head to look at them. "I need to speak to Thomas."

"What? But I wanna hear wha-" Newt protested in disbelief.

"OUT." Alby demanded. Newt, looking hurt, slowly walked out of the room and shut the door behind him. Then it was quiet. Thomas didn't move, waiting for Alby to speak.

"I know who you are, Thomas," Alby said.

"What?" Thomas said, rushing over to where Alby sat. His mind raced at the idea of finally finding out who he used to be, what he did.

"You. The girl. I remember you. You were always their favorite." Alby said coldly.

"Favorite? Alby what are you talking about?" Thomas asked, eyes widening.

Alby ignored his question. "Why can't they just let us live here? Away from them. And from the Flare." Alby said, his eyes growing teary.

Thomas didn't know what Alby meant, but knew it couldn't be good, "...The Flare, Alby? What-"

"You and the girl, you did this. You used to-" Alby suddenly cut himself off when he pulled his hands to his throat and began to choke himself.

"Alby?!" Thomas panicked, not knowing what was going on or what to do. It took a few seconds for him to pull himself together and take action.

"NEWT! GET IN HERE!" Thomas said as Newt burst through the door within a second and took in the situation. He was undoubtedly eavesdropping outside the door when this happened, but it turned out to be a good thing he was doing so. Newt saw Alby and immediately ran towards him and grabbed his arms.

"You have to let go, Alby!" Newt screamed as he pulled as hard as he could on Alby's arms. "Stop it!"

Thomas rushed over to Alby's other side and began to pull at his arms, too. After what felt like an eternity of pulling, Alby's grip finally loosened and his arms fell limp at his sides. He blinked a few times, registering what just happened. Alby looked over to see Newt, who wore the most horrified expression he'd ever seen. "Newt...I'm sorry, I don't know what happened."

"You don't know what happened?" Newt said angrily, "You just tried to bloody kill yourself! THAT'S what happened."

"No...it wasn't...me" Alby said, sounding more confused than anyone.

"How could it not be you?" Newt snapped waving his arms around in the air. "Do you _know_ what you just did?"

Alby shared a very sad but knowing look at Newt. Newt looked at the ground, frowning. His hands were clenched in tight fists down at his sides. What was this about?

"Newt..." Thomas said in shock, he'd never seen Newt so angry before. This was even worse than when Thomas ran into the maze. Newt looked over at him, eyes wild. He sighed and took a few steps back after seeing Thomas' scared face. "Let him rest," Thomas said. Newt looked back at Alby one final time before storming towards the doorway. 

"Wait, Newt," Alby said weakly. He sounded like he was drifting off to sleep. "Protect...the maps."

"What?" Newt said. Alby ignored him and turned to Thomas.

"The girl, she...she..." Alby tried to speak but his body was so exhausted from the ordeal that he fell asleep. Or passed out. Either way, he was completely unconscious. Thomas and Newt looked at each other for a long time. They could read each others expressions and knew what the other was thinking. Both of them came to the same conclusion without speaking a word.

"Come on, the girl is across the hall," Newt said as he turned and left the room. Thomas followed, trying to hide his worry about what they might find. It was getting hard for him to contain his emotions. Gally remembered him. Ben attacked him. And now Alby knows who Thomas really is, or was, and that he was somehow the one who did this to the rest of the Gladers. It was a hard thing to accept, but there was no denying it now. 

And after seeing Alby's reaction to whatever Thomas had done, he wasn't so sure he wanted to know about his past anymore. It couldn't have been good.


	16. Teresa

Newt was just about to open the girl's door when Thomas grabbed his arm. Newt spun around and looked at him with a confused face. "What?" He asked.

"Are you alright?" Thomas asked, "I've never seen you like that before."

Newt opened his mouth, but then closed it. He took a moment before mumbling, "It's nothing, don't worry about it." He sighed when the Greenie didn't budge from where he was. Newt could tell by the look of the Thomas' face that the boy didn't believe him. "Please trust me." Newt asked.

Thomas sighed. He trusted Newt. So if Newt said nothing was wrong, then nothing was wrong. "Okay," Thomas said, "Let's go."

Newt opened the door and Thomas followed him in. They sat in some empty chairs, one at each side of the bed. Newt crossed his arms and stared at the unconscious girl for a while before looking back at Thomas. "Okay, Tommy. I want you to look at her. Study her face. Dig through your mind for anything that seems familiar. We could really use some answers here."

Thomas nodded before adjusting himself in the chair so that his body was facing the girl's. He examined the features of her face, her hair, and her clothes, looking for any kind of trigger. Thomas sifted through the few memories he had, which he made after coming up in the Box. What stood out most was Gally. He accused Thomas of everything that changed in the Glade, which included the girl showing up and the Box not going down. What made Thomas and the girl different from the others? There had to be a reason that they were sent up last, and within only a day of each other. They knew each other somehow, because the first word that came out of the girl's mouth was his name. Why did she remember _his_ name out of anyone else's?

Thomas leaned in slightly, taking one last look at her face. He didn't know her, but she definitely didn't feel like a stranger, either. Something about her felt familiar, although he didn't know what that was. "I think I know her."

"You what?" Newt said excitedly. He leaned forward as well, staring at Thomas with wide eyes. "Don't lose it, Tommy. Keep digging."

The Greenie paused as he began to picture the girl when she was awake. She looked Thomas in the eye, said his name and told him everything was going to change. She knew his name. Maybe, somewhere deep down, Thomas knew her name too. He tried to look even deeper into his mind, but there weren't many places to look. Just as he was about to give up, Thomas heard a voice.

_Teresa._

Thomas jumped back so hard that he knocked his chair to the ground, and himself with it. His head snapped up at the girl in disbelief.

"Tommy? Are you alright? Did you remember something?" Newt asked frantically as he stood and made his way to Thomas.

Thomas looked at him. "Did you just say something?" Newt shook his head no as Thomas pointed towards the bed. "Did _she_ just say something?" Newt shook his head again. "Oh, shuck."

"What's wrong?" Newt questioned nervously.

"I heard a name. Inside my head." Thomas said as he loomed back towards the girl. "Teresa."

Newt raised his eyebrows. "Teresa? That must be a memory trying to come back, keep at it!"

_I need you to listen to me, Tom._

Thomas jumped back again, still on the ground. He began to breathe heavily as he placed both his hands over his ears. "I can hear her in my head," Thomas muttered, staring at the ground.

"What do you mean?" Newt said, his hands reaching out towards Thomas. He wanted to help but didn't know how.

"I can hear her talking to me IN MY SHUCK HEAD!" Thomas yelled as he clenched his hands even harder to his head. He leaned forward so that his body was curled into a ball. Gasps of air escaped his mouth as he tried to process what was happening. 

_Try to stay calm, Tom. Please._

"Stop it," Thomas said without looking up.

"Stop what?" Newt asked, placing a hand on Thomas' back.

"Not you, _her._ She won't stop talking." Thomas said shakily as he pressed his hands even harder against his ears. 

_Everything is going to change, Tom. I was sent here as a trigger to end the trials._

Thomas tried to listen to what she was saying, but the feeling of her voice inside his head was too much for him. No matter what he tried to do, he couldn't get her out. She was still there, digging into his mind. 

"STOP IT!" Thomas screamed in desperation. He felt his entire body shaking. Newt tried his best to calm him down but nothing was working.

_We did this to them, Tom. To us._

Thomas froze at what Teresa said before he could feel her presence leave his mind. He didn't want it to be true. He wanted it to be a lie more than anything else. But now he knew that it had to be the truth. After all of the accusations he'd received, from Gally, Ben, and Alby, there was almost no question that Thomas was the reason they were all here. And Teresa just confirmed that.

The room had grown quiet except for Thomas' ragged breathing. After some time, Thomas eventually calmed down enough to speak. He uncurled himself and looked at Newt with a sad and pained look. Newt frowned and whispered, "What did she say to you?" He kept his hand on Thomas' back, afraid to let go.

"She said she's here to trigger the end of the trials, whatever that means," Thomas said, sounding off. Newt noticed.

"Trials? Like a test?" Newt asked. "So what is this? Some kind of bloody experiment?"

"Yeah," Thomas sighed, "maybe." He wrapped his arms around himself and looked down. Newt noticed the ashamed look on the Greenie's face.  
There was definitely something else Thomas wasn't telling him.

Newt moved his hand from Thomas' back to his arm, just below his shoulder. "There's something else, isn't there?"

Thomas looked up at him and Newt was shocked to see his eyes full of tears. Thomas sniffed before speaking, "I think it's safe to say that everything is my fault."

Newt grew confused, "What are you going on about?"

"Gally. Ben. Alby. They all remembered me, only me. They all said that I did this to them, that all of this was my fault. I wanted to think they were wrong more than anything, but now I know they were right." Thomas said as he tried to stay calm, "Teresa told me that we both did this to all of you. There's no denying now that I had something to do with all this."

Thomas waited for a response. He expected to see Newt try to attack him, or yell at him, or just walked out in anger. He'd been through years of this hell, and Thomas was apparently a part of the reason it all happened. Thomas' stomach dropped as he realized he might lose one of his only friends. But, as Thomas waited for the anger, he saw that it never came. Newt didn't move, he just stared at Thomas blankly.

"Why aren't you angry at me?" Thomas snapped.

"Angry?" Newt said.

"Yes, angry! You just found out that there is a very high chance that I am the reason you're all here in this mess. That I was one of the ones who put you in this shuck place!" Thomas said, a single tear running down his cheek.

"I'm not angry," Newt said calmly. Thomas quickly opened his mouth to protest, but Newt cut him off, "I don't care who you were before. You wanna know why? Cause that Thomas is gone. You have no memories from before living here with us. Anyone can see you're on our side and that you want to get out of here as badly as anyone else." Newt reached up and tenderly wiped away the tear on Thomas' cheek. He kept his hand there as he continued, "You're a Glader now. And you're my friend. And that's all that matters to me."

Thomas once again began to instinctively lean into Newt's touch as he brought up his own hand and placed it on top of Newt's. He was just so overwhelmed. Despite all of the evidence, Newt still didn't care. He didn't see Thomas for what he did in the past, he only saw him as a friend. And Thomas couldn't be more thankful for that.

Once things began to settle down, Thomas and Newt left the building and began to walk towards the dining hall. Neither of them had eaten since breakfast. And after the very long Gathering, and the visits to Alby and Teresa, it was already time for dinner. Newt noticed that Thomas was still a little quiet at dinner, but didn't bring it up. _He just needs some time to himself to think things through,_ Newt thought.

Newt and Thomas had eaten their dinners later than everyone else. So by the time they finished, half of the Gladers were already getting ready to go to sleep. The two had just parted ways when Newt felt Thomas grab his hand to stop him. 

"Hey," Thomas said, "I'm really glad you didn't think I wasn't going crazy today."

"What do you mean?" Newt asked.

"The girl. Teresa. When she...talked to me." Thomas replied shyly.

"Of course I believed you, Tommy. I don't think it's something you could've made up." Newt answered, earning a thankful smile from Thomas.

"Thank you, Newt," Thomas said.

"For what?" Newt asked as he turned to face the Greenie.

Thomas shrugged, "Everything, really. I'll see you tomorrow." Thomas squeezed Newt's hand for a moment before letting go. He sighed before turning to walk towards the sleeping area.

Newt was very glad that it was starting to get dark out because he could feel himself blushing. Newt had noticed himself starting to do that more and more while he was with Thomas. Especially when they were alone. He stood there for a few moments, watching Thomas walk away, before he began to move in the other direction. 

Well, today was certainly an interesting day to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely readers <3 Sadly, it looks like it's only going to be one chapter a week for a little while. I promise it'll pick back up again in late May when I have more time on my hands. Thanks for being so patient, and thanks for reading!!


	17. Chuck

Thomas didn't think about how awful sitting in the slammer would be until it was too late. That morning, Newt appeared with a pair of keys and led Thomas into the small cell. "You might as well do some more memory digging while you're sittin' around in there," Newt said as he locked the door. "I'll be back to let you out tomorrow morning."

"Don't miss me too much," Thomas joked. He'd actually woken up in a surprisingly good mood, considering everything that happened yesterday.

Newt laughed and shook his head. He stood and began to walk away, "Have fun, ya shank."

The first hour made Thomas realize that this was going to be a very long day. It went by in kind of a blur. Thomas tried to just sleep the day away, but that didn't work very well. He tried to watch the Glade, but the angle of the door wasn't the best so there wasn't much to see. At one point Thomas did try to pull any new memories from the back of his mind, but he was ultimately unsuccessful.

As more time passed, Thomas just gave up on doing anything. He ended up laying on the ground, legs crossed and hands behind his head. Thomas stared at the ceiling, doing nothing. He'd already strained his mind enough for one day, and at this point, he was too hungry to think straight anyways. He just let his mind wander freely. But Thomas did notice, however, that all of his thoughts always led back to Newt. He was still so shocked at how Newt still considered him to be his friend, despite Thomas' probable past. That alone spoke much about the relationship they had.

Over time, the sky slowly began to grow darker. Thomas, who still sat in the same position as before, could hear the Gladers finishing up dinner and heading to bed. The worst part about all of this punishment was definitely not having food. Although Thomas felt better after his night in the maze with Minho and Alby, skipping meals still sucked. He didn't even get to eat breakfast this morning.

It must've been pretty late when Thomas thought he heard footsteps coming towards his cell. He quietly sat up, listening. Thomas moved over towards the locked door to see if someone was coming. He smiled and relief flooded through him as he saw Chuck emerge from the darkness of the Glade, walking up with a smile on his face.

"Hey Thomas!" Chuck whispered as he came to the door and sat down. He looked both ways over his shoulder before reaching in his pocket and pulling out something wrapped in a towel. "Look what I brought ya."

Thomas grabbed the wrapping through the cell door and opened it. His eyes widened in joy as he saw a big piece of freshly-baked bread waiting for him. He laughed before stuffing it in his mouth. "Chuck," Thomas tried to say between chews, "You are the BEST. Thank you."

"I wish there was more I could do. I wanted to get you a little somethin' after finding out you're a runner. A freaking runner! That's so cool!" Chuck said excitedly.

"Chuck, this is a great present. Really. I needed this so bad." Thomas said as he finished off the last of his bread. "So," Thomas continued, "did I miss anything today?"

Chuck squinted his eyes in thought for a moment before answering, "Alby's up and moving around. The worst part's over, but...he's different now. He's acting the same, but something is different in his voice."

"He's been through a lot, Chuck," Thomas said, thinking about what Alby had said to him after the Gathering. He knew the real reason Alby was upset, but he wasn't about to tell Chuck any of it. He wasn't sure how the boy would react. "Alby's probably just a little tired."

Chuck shrugged, "Yeah, you're probably right." The boy paused for a moment and stared at the ground. He began to pick at the nearby grass piece by piece. Without stopping, he continued to speak, "Gally's missing."

Now _that_ caught Thomas' attention. When did this happen?

Noticing Thomas' surprised face, Chuck continued, "Nobody has seen him since the Gathering. Someone said they thought they saw Gally runnin' into the maze after he left the Homestead..."

Thomas was silent. He _never_ expected Gally to do anything like that...if he actually went out there, that is. Thomas wouldn't be surprised if he was actually just holed up somewhere in the Glade. There was no way he could survive in the maze for this long, right? As the two sat quietly, Chuck started to stare at something in his hands. Thomas followed his eyes and saw the boy was fiddling something wooden. "Hey, what's that?" Thomas asked quietly.

Chuck held the small wooden carving up between the bars on the door. Thomas carefully grabbed the carving and studied it. "It's, uh, for my parents."

"...You remember your parents?" Thomas said, still looking at the carving.

"No, wish I did though. I'm making this in case I see'm again." Chuck said quietly. Thomas looked up at him to see Chuck staring back with a sad face. The boy looked between Thomas and the totem a few times before whispering, "I want you to take it, Thomas."

"What?"

"I just have a feeling that you're the one who's gonna get us out of here. I want you to give that to my parents for me." Chuck muttered.

"Chuck..." Thomas didn't have the words. He felt so protective of Chuck and was heartbroken when he found out that Chuck thought he wasn't going to make it. Thomas didn't know what he would do if anything happened to him. He reached through the bars and put the totem back in his hands. "I don't need this, cause you're gonna give it to them yourself."

"How do you know?" Chuck asked.

"I promise I'll get you out, Chuck. I promise." Thomas said with nothing but sincerity. He wasn't going to let anything happen to Chuck. The boy looked at Thomas hesitantly before taking the carving back. They sat in silence for a while before Chuck started talking again. He stayed for a long time, knowing that Thomas loved having the company. Chuck did most of the talking, but Thomas intently listened. This was so much better than sitting all alone in that cell. Later on, Thomas was starting to zone out when he heard something that caught his attention.

"...yeah, so then Newt came in..." Chuck said, telling a story. But Thomas only heard one specific word that snapped him out of it, perking him up.

"Wait, what about Newt?" Thomas asked.

"I'm getting there, hold on," Chuck said, giving Thomas a confused but intrigued look. "So Newt came into lunch today and sat with us, but when we started talking about ya he started acting all weird."

"Acting weird?" Thomas asked. He started to get that nervous feeling in his stomach again.

"I don't know, he just kind of started looking down a lot. Got fidgety. His face turned a little red." Chuck said, picturing what Newt looked like earlier that day.

Thomas' eyes widened as he took all of this in. Why did Newt act like that when his name was mentioned? Thomas thought back and realized that Newt sometimes acted like that around him, too. Especially within the last one or two days. But what did any of that mean? His mind suddenly stopped racing when he realized something. _Oh shuck,_ Thomas thought to himself, _Now_ I'm _blushing. Why does this keep happening?._ He looked at Chuck and knew it was true when he saw the boy staring at him with both eyebrows raised.

"You, too!?" Chuck said. "What's the matter with you guys?"

"I...uh, well he...we..." Thomas had never been so lost for words before, and he had no idea why.

"Thomas..." Chuck said in a sudden realization as he leaned forward towards the barred door, "Do you like Newt?"

"What? Of course I like him. Why wouldn't I like him?" Thomas began to ramble. Chuck could see right through it.

"That's not what I meant, slinthead. I meant, do you _like_ him?" Chuck asked, leaning even closer towards the door in anticipation. Thomas felt like he couldn't breathe. His mouth hung open slightly as he tried to think. He could feel his heart started to beat faster. The most shocking part for Thomas was that he didn't immediately deny it. He didn't know the answer. But it would explain why Thomas spent so much time with Newt, why he always preferred Newt's company, why he felt so much better when Newt embraced him...

"Ha! You're blushing again! I KNEW IT!" Chuck said a little too loudly. He quickly remembered how late it was, and laughed quietly to himself. "Well, it's getting kinda late," Chuck said nonchalantly as he stood, "I should go." Within a second Chuck was already sprinting towards the sleeping area. 

Thomas got back to his senses and tried to get Chuck to come back. "Chuck? Chuck! You get back here right now!" Thomas could hear the boy laughing in the distance, and he sighed and plopped to the ground. Thomas reached up and touched his cheek to find that they were very warm. He thought back to everything Chuck said and really hoped he wasn't going to tell anyone. Thomas' stomach dropped at the thought of Chuck telling Newt what just happened.

Thomas lay there for a while, just thinking. It was completely dark outside and he could barely see anything inside the cell. Whenever he tried to think about Newt, he got that nervous feeling again. It wasn't a bad nervous feeling, though. This was something different. Something good. And it wasn't until his chat with Chuck that Thomas realized what it meant.

 

Thomas liked Newt. He _really_ liked Newt.

 

He just never admitted it to himself before. Newt was the only person in the Glade that Thomas immediately felt a connection with. He is one of Thomas' closest friends and the only one that Thomas trusts completely. Thomas would trust Newt with his life. And Newt had always been there for Thomas during his short time in the Glade. When he hugged Newt, he felt safe. When Newt smiled, Thomas felt like everything was suddenly okay, even if only for a moment. When they looked into each other's eyes, they could understand everything without saying a word. Newt was everything Thomas had.

"I'm an idiot," Thomas mumbled to himself as he covered his face with his hands. Why did it take him so long to realize this? Thomas guessed he was just too preoccupied with everything happening with the maze, and he never slowed down enough to realize it. But now that he had some time to think, Newt was all he think about. Eventually, Thomas managed to fall asleep on the cold, dirty floor of the cell.

The next morning, Chuck got up very early. He scanned the Glade, looking for one person in particular. He stood and groggily made his way to the dining hall. Inside, a few of the Gladers sat eating breakfast. All of whom were runners, since they always ate before the doors opened. Chuck quickly made his way over to one of the tables and took a seat.

"Hey, Minho." Chuck said, trying to sound casual.

Minho looked up and raised and eyebrow, "What are you doing up so early?"

"I need to tell you something," Chuck said.

"Can it wait?" Minho asked, "I need to go get Thomas from the slammer."

Chuck shook his head rapidly. "No, it's important! It's about Thomas."

Minho sighed and nodded for Chuck to talk, "Make it quick, shank."

Chuck looked over his shoulders to make sure nobody else was listening. He leaned in towards Minho and took a deep breath before whispering. "Thomas and Newt like each other."

Minho sat there, eyes widening, before a look of amusement came over his face. "Nice one, Chuck. You almost had me there for a minute."

Chuck rolled his eyes, "I'm serious, Minho."

The expression in the runner's face faded as he took in Chuck's serious tone. He sat back and folded his arms across his chest skeptically. "And what makes you think that?"

"You're gonna have to trust me on this. I've seen how they act around each other. And when I brought up Newt to Thomas last night when I visited him, he got all flustered and couldn't think straight. The same happened to Newt during lunch," Chuck said quietly, being careful not to speak too loudly.

Minho frowned, absolutely shocked. "...You serious?"

"Yes."

"Like one hundred percent sure?"

"Yeah."

"You're positive?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, shuck..." Minho said, staring at the table. Minho didn't know the Greenie too well yet, but he did know Newt. They'd known each other since day one. And the last thing Minho wanted was his best friend falling for someone who could hurt him.

"Test it out with Thomas today," Chuck said, a small smile forming on his face.

"What? What do you mean test it?" Minho almost whispered, leaning in.

"When you're out in the maze today, bring up Newt. Just watch what happens." Chuck said.

Minho stared back at him. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He stood and pointed a finger at Chuck, "I'll think about it. I gotta go."

"Seeya Minho," Chuck said as the runner left, walking towards the slammer. He really hoped that Minho would listen to him.


	18. Run

Minho let a very excited Thomas out of the slammer before taking him to a small, locked shed in one of the far corners of the Glade. The keeper studied Thomas the entire time, thinking about what Chuck had said to him earlier. As much as he tried to deny it, he couldn't help but wonder if Chuck was actually right. After a long debate, Minho decided to try out Chuck's idea, but not until they were alone out in the maze.

Minho helped Thomas gear up for the run, tossing him food, water, a vest, a digital watch, and a new pair of runnie-undies. Thomas wasn't too sure about the underwear, but Minho was right. They _were_ comfortable. Thomas also got to a new pair of running shoes, and only runners and keepers ever got those. It took a while for Minho to find a pair big enough for Thomas' size eleven feet, but he eventually dusted off a a brand new pair of tennis shoes and handed them to the boy.

Once Thomas was dressed and ready, Minho then led Thomas into a cellar with only one small light that hung from the ceiling by a string. Thomas almost gasped at what he saw. Weapons. Nothing but weapons. Bows, arrows, spears, hatchets, daggers. It was an impressive, yet also slightly intimidating, collection. Fortunately, they looked like they hadn't been touched in a while.

Minho had Thomas pick out two small daggers to place on his vest. Thomas was a little nervous about it, but Minho insisted. Better safe than sorry. Once Thomas was ready, they left the shed and Minho locked the door behind them. They made their way to one of the other buildings Thomas had never seen before. The map room. There, Minho described the maze to Thomas while showing him some of the recent maps they'd drawn.

"There's the inner section, which never changes. Then there's the eight outer sections, and those are the ones that change each night. Usually, one runner searches each section. But, since you're in training, you'll be with me in section four today. Got all that?" Minho said, not looking at Thomas until the end.

Thomas nodded, trying his best to pay attention. He was struggling to do so with so much on his mind. This was it. Thomas truly felt like a real runner now, and in just a few minutes, he'd enter the maze. He would finally be able to see why he felt so drawn to the maze, and why he was so eager to explore it. He wished beyond reason that he'd find a way to get all of his friends out. But he knew not to expect anything. The runners before him had already been searching for over two years without any luck. He could still hope, though.

Once they were done in the map room, Minho led Thomas to one of the large stone doors at the edge of the Glade. The brightening sky indicated that it would be opening any minute. As the two approached the door, they spotted someone leaning against it with their arms crossed. It took a few moments to see that it was Newt. Thomas smiled and waved, and Newt smiled back and pushed off the wall to walk towards them.

"What are you doing here, Newt?" Minho asked as he stopped near the door.

"Well I'm not about to miss Tommy's first day on the job," Newt said, reaching out to gently pat Thomas' shoulder. Newt turned to Thomas and smirked again before speaking, "Be careful out there, yeah?"

"Yeah, I will be." Thomas said with an appreciative look.

"You better be." Newt said with a slight laugh. "If you die out there, I'll kill you."

Thomas huffed out a laugh and shook his head, "Pressure's on, now." Suddenly the doors rumbled as they began to slowly open.

"Just don't make me regret my decision." Newt smiled as he crossed his arms and backed away, "I'll see you tonight."

Minho had sat there, watching the two converse. As much as he tried not to, all he could think about was what Chuck had told him. The doors were almost completely open when Minho leaned over to Thomas and yelled, "You ready!?"

Thomas quickly respond, his answer full of excitement, "Ready when you are!"

Minho smirked before responding. "Well then let's go runnin'." Within a second, the two were off, sprinting into the maze.

The run started out well. Thomas was glad to see he had no trouble keeping up with Minho, even when they ran farther than they did during their night in the maze. Minho had shown him his bread crumbs technique for keeping track of left and right turns as they ran on, and Thomas was overjoyed at how quickly he began to pick up on it. After a few hours, the two stopped for lunch. Sitting against the walls, the runners dug through their packs for the food they prepared back in the Glade.

Thomas immediately starting to ask questions as he bit into his apple, "How far are we to the outer section?"

"Almost there," Minho said while chewing on a sandwich, "We'll explore there for a little while before we have to turn back."

Thomas nodded. He really wanted to make it out there. "How does the outer section of the maze change?"

Minho took a final bite of his sandwich before answering, "Every day, each outer section changes its position. The only pattern we've been able to find is that the arrangements repeat themselves every month."

"That has to mean something, right? If it didn't, wouldn't the changes just be random?" Thomas asked as he finished off his snack and began to pack up.

"I sure hope it means something. We have nothing else to go off of except for these patterns. We just don't know how to use them, I guess." Minho answered, with a very slight hint of defeat in his voice. "Let's keep moving."

The two runners then set off towards the outer section. They ran for nearly another hour before finally reaching the very outskirts of the maze. Thomas was still holding up pretty well, although he was starting to feel a little tired. The two walked around for a while, looking for anything new. It didn't take long before something caught Thomas' eye, something printed all over the walls. It read "W.I.C.K.E.D." across the stone walls, with the phrase "World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department" printed underneath. Minho didn't say much about it. He didn't think much of the writing. 

Even though he knew they probably wouldn't find anything of importance, Thomas still felt a little disappointed as the day moved on. He really wanted to find something that could help, since he still felt guilty about everything he'd apparently done in his past. He felt so responsible, and he wanted to make up for it as much as he could.

Just before the two turned to head back, Minho stopped them. "Water break," he said as he pulled out a bottle and began to drink. Thomas did the same without complaint. When he finished, Minho pulled his water bottle from his mouth with a sigh and looked at Thomas. He really hoped Chuck was right about this. Here went nothing.

"Hey Thomas."

"What?"

"I heard you actually wanted to be a runner since day one. That true?" Minho said casually.

Thomas frowned before nodding. "Who told you that?"

"Newt did." Minho answered, studying Thomas' face closely. "We were talkin' about you earlier." Minho actually made this up. He just wanted to see what Thomas would do. And within seconds, Minho noticed an immediate change in Thomas' expression when he spoke. The Greenie lifted his eyebrows and his eyes slightly widened. He began to shift where he stood, unable to keep still. 

"Why were you talking about me?" Thomas said, sounding very nervous.

Minho shrugged and turned around, strolling the other way," He talks about you a lot. And I mean _a lot._ "

"He does?" Thomas asked, surprised. He could feel his cheeks turning pink at the thought. He really hoped Minho wouldn't notice. "Wait, what does he say?"

Minho lifted an eyebrow and turned back to face Thomas. He was trying to hide a smile as he spoke, "Why so curious?"

Thomas could feel his face flush even more. He was done for. "I don't...I mean, I..."

"Something wrong, Greenie?" Minho couldn't believe this was actually happening. Wait till Chuck hears about _this._

"We, uh...I..." Thomas frantically stuttered before burying his face in his hands to hide his crimson cheeks.

Minho laughed while shaking his head. He slowly brought his arms up and crossed them. "You know, I thought Chuck was lying. Turns out that lil' shuck-face was spot on."

"Wait...what about Chuck?" Thomas asked hesitantly as he raised his head and his body grew tense. He really hoped Minho wasn't talking about what he thought he was talking about.

"What he said. About you and Newt." Minho said, waiting anxiously for a reaction. Thomas closed his eyes and sighed. He brought his hand to his forehead again to hide his face. When he didn't answer, Minho spoke again, "Thomas, do you like Newt?"

Thomas looked up at him with desperate eyes as he opened his mouth to speak. At first, nothing came out. "...I...I don't know."

Minho walked towards him, a sudden hint of anger in his voice, "How do you not know?"

Thomas sighed. He never broke eye contact with Minho as he spoke. "I mean I didn't even realize it until I talked to Chuck last night. I guess my feelings were always there, I just didn't know what to make of them until now."

Minho took another step closer, making Thomas back up into the wall. "And what would those feelings be?"

Thomas took a deep breathe and slowly let it out. This was it. He tried to hide his nervousness as he spoke, "Everything. He's everything to me. I don't remember much, but I do know that I have never felt the same way about another person than I have with him. He still trusts me after everything that's happened, and he gives me hope. So if you still want an answer, then it's yes. I like Newt."

Neither of the runners spoke for what felt like an eternity. The only sound that could be heard was the soft rustle of the wind blowing dirt across the stone floor. Minho's face was stern as he studied the boy's face and processed what he'd just said. And just as he had before, Minho took another few steps until he was less than a foot away from Thomas, who was still standing against the wall. He stared down the poor Greenie as he spoke, "I just want you to know one thing. I've known Newt for a hell of a lot longer than you. He's my best friend. So if you hurt him in _any_ way, you'll have much bigger problems than just being stuck in a maze full of Grievers, got it?"

Thomas was horrified. He'd never seen Minho this serious before. Thomas nodded quickly in agreement, lost for words.

"Say it, slinthead," Minho said, his voice slightly less harsh.

"Yeah," Thomas replied confidently, "I got it."

"Good that," Minho nodded once, a small smile of approval growing on his face. He looked up at the sky, noticing that it was just starting to change hues. "Alright. We need to start heading back. Come on, Romeo."

Thomas blushed at Minho's nickname and quickly followed suit. They ran at a steady pace for a long time, trying to make up for the time lost during their conversation about Thomas and Newt. Thomas found it hard to concentrate after what had just happened, he felt pretty flustered. It took quite a long time for him to finally settle down and to be able to focus on the run. He and Minho rounded dozens of corners for a few hours before finally returning to the entrance of the Glade. The two trotted in, slowing down as they reached the open stone entrance.

Once they reached the grass, Thomas had to bend over with his hands on his knees in order to catch his breathe. Although he kept up with Minho, he was much more exhausted than him. But at the same time, Thomas felt good. He was finally doing what he wanted to do since he first arrived here. But Thomas' happy thoughts were soon interrupted by a sudden worry...he really hoped Minho wouldn't say anything to Newt.


	19. Midnight

Thomas and Minho had made it back to the Glade just in time to eat dinner with everyone else. Thomas, who'd been walking slowly due to his sore body, picked up his pace at the thought of eating food. Minho huffed out a laugh as he watched Thomas race for the dining hall before following suit. Once inside, the two runners happily stuffed their trays full of Frypan's freshly-cooked dinner and looked for some seats. The hall was fairly full, but they were very grateful to see that Newt had saved them two seats at his table. 

"Hey guys," Newt said with a smile as he saw Thomas and Minho approaching the table, "How was the run today?"

In that moment, Thomas could feel his heartbeat start to pick up in his chest. He thought about the conversation he'd had with Minho while in the maze, and seeing Newt in person made him really nervous. Thomas had to take a deep breathe as he sat down in his seat across from Newt. 

Minho shot him a very amused look before answering. "Nothing new. But Thomas here," he said as he playfully punched Thomas' shoulder, "is a natural. Kept up with me just fine."

"Really?" Newt asked, intrigued. He turned to look at Thomas, "I guess you were right all along, Tommy. You knew you wanted to be a runner from the start." 

"Y-yeah, I did," Thomas said, trying desperately to mask his nervous voice. It was so hard to speak. 

Minho rolled his eyes and Thomas, trying to hold in his laughter. Watching Thomas like this was downright hilarious. But Minho wasn't the only one to notice that Thomas was acting strangely. 

"You sure nothing else happened today?" Newt asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

"Why don't you ask Thomas," Minho said with a sly grin on his face. 

"What? Why?" Newt asked, more confused than ever. 

"Go on, Thomas. Tell him what you told me earlier." Minho said, trying to sound as innocent as he could. He'd barely finished his sentence before receiving a very harsh glare from Thomas. 

"What's he goin' on about?" Newt asked Thomas as he nodded towards Minho from across the table. 

Thomas swore he could hear his own heart beating, and was surprised that the others couldn't. He could feel his cheeks starting to grow warmer as he opened his mouth to speak. He couldn't believe Minho was actually doing this to him. "I...uh, I was just saying that..."

Suddenly, Thomas stopped mid-sentence and his eyes went wide. Something was wrong in his head. But he'd felt this before, and it took him a few moments to realize it was the girl. Teresa. Her voice echoed through Thomas' head, sending shivers down his body. She only spoke one sentence. 

_I just triggered the ending, Tom._

And as soon as that strange feeling entered Thomas' head, it vanished. With his mind cleared, Thomas began to realize what Teresa had just said to him. The ending? The end of what? It took Thomas a few seconds to realize what she probably meant. This was the beginning of the end. Of everything.

"Oh, no." Thomas whispered, not looking at either of the two confused boys at the table. Thomas stood quickly, racing out the door of the dining hall. He ignored the two voices calling his name in confusion as he walked quickly across the grass outside. It was already quite dark.

"Hey, Thomas! Slow down, man!" Minho shouted as he ran to catch up with the boy. When they met, he grabbed Thomas' shoulder and spun the boy to face towards him. "What was that about?"

Thomas looked over Minho's shoulder to see Newt approaching as well, favoring his bad leg as he ran to catch up with them. Thomas waited until Newt reached them to speak, "Teresa."

"What about her?" Newt asked, frowning in confusion. 

"She sp-" Thomas cut himself off as he realized what he was about to say. Newt already knew what Teresa could do, but Minho definitely didn't. And Thomas didn't want Minho to think he was losing it when he said that Teresa could speak inside his head. Newt immediately picked up on Thomas' change in facial expression, and he had a feeling he knew why. 

"Hey Minho," Newt said, turning to the keeper, "go check on the girl for me, will you?"

"Me?" Minho asked with a frown, "But what abou-"

"Just bloody do it." Newt said with a serious face. Minho gave him a weird look before hesitantly walking towards the med rooms. Once he was far enough away, Newt turned back to Thomas with a concerned face. "Did she, uh, talk to you again?"

Thomas nodded slightly while giving Newt an appreciative look for getting rid of Minho. "Yeah."

"What did she say?" Newt asked softly, taking a step closer towards Thomas. 

"She said she'd just triggered the ending," Thomas said with a grave face. 

Newt stared back at him for a long time. "The ending?" He said, "What the hell does that mean?" 

"I don't know," Thomas shrugged, "But it doesn't sound good."

Newt nodded and folded his arms, a quizzical look growing on his face. Thomas could tell he was trying to piece things together in his mind, so he tried to do the same. 

"That one note said she's the last one ever," Newt said, breaking the short silence between them. "And the box still hasn't gone back down."

Thomas knew where Newt was going with this, and he dreaded it. "No more Greenies," he added, "no more supplies."

"The end of the Glade," Newt whispered, a clear hint of fear in his voice. 

"As much as I don't want to accept it, I think that's what Teresa meant," Thomas added solemnly. Newt stared at him with sad eyes. Teresa was right. She said everything was going to change, and now they were starting to. Thomas didn't know how or when things will change, but he knew that they needed to be ready for when they did. "Things are starting to change."

"Yeah," Newt breathed out, still a little in shock. "What are we gonna do?"

Thomas reached out and rubbed Newt's shoulder soothingly, "We're gonna make it out of here. All of us, together. We can face whatever they throw at us."

"I know," Newt said as he reached up to place his hand on top of Thomas'. Thomas got nervous again at the touch, his heart picking up pace.

Thomas didn't want to talk about this anymore. It scared him beyond belief, knowing so little. And Thomas could tell that Newt didn't want to think about it either. Thomas' face softened as he brought his hand down and changed the subject. "We should finish eating dinner. Skipping meals won't solve anything."

Newt nodded in agreement. "You're right," he started, "but can we eat out here? I don't want to go back in there."

"Yeah, sure thing," Thomas said with understanding, "I'll go get our plates."

And with that, Thomas turned and walked towards the dining hall. Newt watched him as he went, trying to find a place to sit. Slowly, the blonde made his way over towards the edge of the treeline and sat down against one of the larger trees. It was the same one that he and Thomas had slept against just a few days earlier. As he sat, Newt's mind was racing. The thought of everything, and everyone, in the Glade coming to an end terrified him. But what terrified him even more was the thought of being trapped in the Glade forever, his past permanently erased from his mind, never to be remembered.

Newt sighed. He didn't want to be thinking about this when Thomas came back. All Newt wanted was a quiet night with Thomas where they could both just forget about all of their problems, just for a little while. As Newt looked over and saw the boy approaching with two trays, he rubbed his face with his hands and tried to not think about today. It wasn't easy.

"Here," Thomas said as he held out a plate. Newt nodded in thanks as he took it from Thomas and slowly began to pick at his remaining food.

"You alright, Newt?" Thomas asked after he'd noticed that Newt was barely touching his meal.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" Newt asked.

Thomas spoke quietly, "I'm sorry, I probably should have just not told you what Teresa said. You already have enough to worry about and I just made it wors-"

Newt cut him off, "Tommy, it's fine. Really. I'm glad you told me."

"I still made you worry," Thomas said, a hint of guilt in his voice.

"It's okay, Tommy. Trust me." Newt said calmly, but with meaning. He really was glad that Thomas told him, but he could see that Thomas still felt bad about making him worry. "Well if you feel so bad about it," Newt said, "why don't we talk about something else, then?"

Thomas cocked his head and stared at Newt, "Like what?"

"Tell me about myself," Newt said with no hesitation.

"What?" Thomas asked, confusion taking over his face.

Newt placed his plate aside and leaned back on the grass with his hands folded behind his head. As he stared at the sky, he could see Thomas do the same. "Do you remember what you told me in the gardens?" Newt asked.

Thomas had to pause to recall the conversation they had. It's when he, Newt, and Zart were all talking about their pasts before coming to the Glade. "I said I thought you were an artist."

Newt smiled at the memory and spoke, "But what do you think I was like?"

Thomas caught on to what Newt was asking, and took a long moment before he answered in the most sincere voice. "I think you loved to paint the most, but you never did it for yourself. You always did it for other people. But you did it because you loved seeing the look on other peoples' faces when they saw the pictures you'd made for them. I think you liked to read, maybe even write. You liked to pick flowers for your parents, and your mother would leave out a vase for them every single day. I think you were the kind of person who'd hike to the top of a mountain just to see the view. You were brave, smart, kind. Someone that others should aspire to be like," Thomas said in a voice so soft that it sounded almost like a whisper, "And you still are now."

When Newt didn't respond, Thomas turned his head to face him. He saw Newt laying on the ground, his eyes closed. As Thomas strained his eyes to see in the dark he could see a single tear falling down Newt's cheek. Without thinking, Thomas instinctively reached over and gently wiped it away with his hand. Newt opened his eyes at the touch and offered a small smile.

"Thank you for that, Tommy," Newt said as he sniffed once and wiped his face once more with his hand. It felt like an entire hole missing from his life was just filled. It felt good, and he wanted to do the same for Thomas. "Now you," he said with a smile.

Thomas let out a small laugh and shook his head. "Okay, go for it."

"Your favorite color was blue," Newt started, "and you loved watching movies even though you'd always fall asleep during them. I think you were really good in school, especially at problem-solving and math. You were always the person that chased the ice cream truck for five blocks on a hot day just for some ice cream. I think that you were always honest, even if it would get you in trouble sometimes. You were loyal, and you were always ready to take on the whole world." 

Thomas laughed as a smile grew on his face. "You think I'm ready to take on the world?"

"Of course I do," Newt said with a sincere smile. "I've always thought so."

Thomas nodded in thanks as he sighed in content. The two stared back at the sky for a long time in silence, not thinking at all. And that was the best part. Thomas and Newt's conversation had put both of them at ease, and they both needed it after the days they had. Even though neither of them admitted it, both boys wanted this moment to last so much longer. To stay here, forget about the Glade coming to an end, and just not worry.

By the time Newt spoke again, the Glade was pitch black, with only a few lit torches in the distance. "Hey Tommy."

"Yeah?" He asked.

"What was Minho talkin' about earlier at dinner? When he said something about what you told him in the maze?" Newt questioned as he turned his body on the ground to face Thomas. It was so dark they could barely see each other.

Thomas panicked. Was he ready for this? He took a few quite deep breathes, preparing himself while trying to stay calm. As much as Thomas wanted to dodge the question, he knew that he needed to tell Newt how he really felt. It's now or never. "It's something I need to tell you."

"Me? What is it?" Newt asked as he heard Thomas turning on the ground to face him.

"Newt, I...I can't." Thomas said nervously.

"Is everything alright? Are you okay?" Newt asked quickly, concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...I don't want to mess everything up," Thomas said.

"What do you mean?" Newt said.

"I...I don't know, I..." Thomas began to stutter.

"Just tell me, Tommy." Newt said, leaning in towards Thomas.

"I can't. I want to, but I can't..."

"Do you trust me?" Newt asked.

"Of course," Thomas answered without hesitation.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Newt said as he sat upwards and reached out to pat Thomas' shoulder in encouragement.

"Okay," Thomas said as he sat up into a sitting position as well. The two sat facing each other, staring into each others' eyes through the darkness. And just as Thomas thought his heart couldn't beat any faster, it did. He felt his throat clench as he opened his mouth to speak. It had never been so hard to look someone in the eyes before.

"Newt." Thomas said.

"Yeah, Tommy?" Newt asked patiently.

"I like you, Newt," Thomas replied, "I like you a lot."

Newt froze. He couldn't feel himself breathing, or thinking, or anything. His entire world just stopped moving. Happiness, relief, and shock all surged through his chest at Thomas' words. Could this be real? Newt stared at Thomas, his mouth agape. Newt couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He had to make sure he'd heard Thomas correctly. "...You what?"

Thomas couldn't look into Newt's eyes anymore. He looked down at the ground as he repeated, "I like you."

Without a word, Newt reached down and placed a hand underneath Thomas' chin and slowly brought his face back up. His other hand cupped the side of Thomas' face, his thumb rubbing slow circles on his cheek. Newt struggled to see his face in the darkness, so he began to move closer. With slight hesitation, Newt leaned towards Thomas until their foreheads were gently touching. Then they both sat there, breathing slowly, waiting for each other to speak.

"Newt?" Thomas breathed out.

"Tommy," Newt whispered as he leaned in and closed the distance between their lips. Thomas gasped as he felt his entire body freeze. He felt Newt slide his hands so that one was around his head and the other on the back of his neck. Almost immediately, Thomas began to melt under Newt's touch as he wrapped his hands around the blonde's lower back. Thomas leaned farther in to the kiss as he pulled Newt even closer to him on the ground. Both of their arms tightened as they got closer, their breathes picking up pace.

It must have been minutes before the two pulled apart. They looked each other straight in the eyes with nothing but pure joy.

"No need to worry," Newt laughed between breathes, "I fancy you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to post this one. Also, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has read the story so far and left such supporting feedback. You never fail to make my day. 
> 
> And some final (not so fun) news: I have a lot of stuff on my plate the next few weeks, and I've also run out of chapters to post. With this being said, I'm going to have to take a few weeks off to focus on my work and to be able to write some more chapters. I'm really sorry about this, but I hope that it'll be worth the wait ;) You could probably expect me to start updating again in about three or three and a half weeks. Thank you all so much for your patience, and happy reading <3


	20. Ending (Wicked POV)

"Shall we begin, Dr. Paige?"

Ava looked up from the screen sitting on her desk, which currently displayed the Glades of both Groups A and B. She watched as the boys and girls began to finish up their work, heading for their dining halls for dinner. Janson patiently stared back at her, waiting for a response. 

"Yes," Ava said without any expression. She turned to him calmly and added, "I need you to prep Teresa and Aris for the telepathic message." 

"Right away," Janson said as he looked back down to the digital pad in his hands. With every touch of his finger, the device beeped and ticked as he typed. Janson began to compose different variations of the message, reading them over to see which one was most appropriate. "How about 'I've just triggered the ending,' or is that too vague?"

"No, that should be fine. Thomas and Rachel are smart kids, they'll figure it out," Ava stated in approval, "I want that message sent in thirty seconds." As she spoke, Ava pulled up live images of Thomas and Rachel at dinner onto her monitor. 

Janson re-read the message one final time before sending it to Teresa and Aris. Almost instantly, Ava and Janson noticed very distressed looks on Thomas and Rachel's faces. They watched as Rachel squirmed uncomfortably in her chair at the table, obviously trying to tune out Aris' voice from her head. But Thomas, however, immediately stood and urgently made his way out of the hall. Ava and Janson watched as Newt and Minho trailed after him into the darkness of the Glade. Janson sighed as he listened to the three converse, eyeing Minho as he suddenly began walking towards the med rooms. 

"I don't know what surprises me more," Janson stated, breaking the silence, "the fact that Thomas told Newt about his telepathy, or the fact that Newt believed him."

"It's not surprising," Ava corrected him. Janson didn't answer, but raised his eyebrows expectantly at Ava for her to continue. "Even before the maze Newt and Thomas quickly developed a strong and trusting connection. Now, that seems to have turned into something more..."

Janson tilted his head in confusion, "Something more, Dr. Paige?"

Ava paused before answering. "Oh, that's right. You weren't in the lab earlier. Here, let me show you the footage." Ava began to scan the thousands of video files from the last few days in Group A's Glade. Her fingers glided effortlessly across the keyboard as she carefully sifted through many hours of footage. Eventually, she stopped, pulled up a video from Thomas' and Minho's run in the maze and turned back towards Janson. "This is from today, about five hours ago." 

Janson walked over to stand behind Dr. Paige, getting a better view of the screen. He waited silently for Ava to press the play button, curious as to what she was about to show him. On the monitor, Janson saw Minho talking to Thomas. He could immediately tell that Thomas was really flustered about something. But Janson chose not to speak until the video was finished. 

_"Thomas, do you like Newt?"_

_"...I...I don't know."_

_"How do you not know?"_

_"I mean I didn't even realize it until I talked to Chuck last night. I guess my feelings were always there, I just didn't know what to make of them until now."_

_"And what would those feelings be?"_

_"Everything. He's everything to me. I don't remember much, but I do know that I have never felt the same way about another person than I have with him. He still trusts me after everything that's happened, and he gives me hope. So if you still want an answer, then it's yes. I like Newt."_

In that moment, Ava tapped the space-bar of her keyboard and the video stopped abruptly. She slowly turned to face Janson, saying nothing. 

Janson stared back at her, his eyes narrowing. "Well," he said with a hint of confusion and frustration, " _that_ is certainly a variable that I was not anticipating." 

Ava nodded, remaining silent as she carefully studied Janson's reactions. 

"What will this do?" Janson asked, "Will this have any major effects on the trials?"

"No, it shouldn't," Ava finally spoke. "Besides, it seems that Thomas has not taken action on this matter anyways. As of right now, nothing is different." 

"I guess you're right," Janson said. He stood quietly for a few seconds before putting his digital pad on Ava's desk and rubbing his face with his hands. "How are Rachel's responses?"

Ava closed to video footage of Minho and Thomas and pulled up the live images of Rachel in the dining hall. No change. She still sat, keeping to herself, fidgeting every once and a while. But, it was harder for her than it was for Thomas. Rachel didn't tell _anyone_ about her telepathy. She was alone. 

"And what about Thomas?" Janson questioned, curiosity in his voice. "Any change with him?"

Ava cut to the video footage of the dining hall, assuming Thomas had returned to his meal. She and Janson studied the screen intently, looking for Thomas. But, he was no where to be found. 

"Where the hell is he?" Janson asked, "Track his chip and get a Beetle Blade over there." 

Ava followed suit and found that Thomas was outside, near the edge of the forest area. As she maneuvered a camera towards him, she saw that he wasn't alone. Newt was with him. Zooming in on the lens, Ava turned up the audio so they could listen to what they were saying. 

_"It's something I need to tell you."_ They could both tell that was Thomas speaking, but something sounded off in his voice. 

_"Me? What is it?" Newt asked._

_"Newt, I...I can't."_

_"Is everything alright? Are you okay?"_

_"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...I don't want to mess everything up."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I...I don't know, I..."_

_"Just tell me, Tommy."_

_"I can't. I want to, but I can't..."_

_"Do you trust me?"_

_"Of course."_

_"Then you have nothing to worry about."_ Through the darkness, Ava made out Newt as he reached up at gently pat Thomas on the shoulder. 

_"Okay. Newt?"_

_"Yeah, Tommy?"_

_"I like you, Newt. I like you a lot."_

Ava's mouth hung agape as she listened to the two. She couldn't believe that this was actually happening, especially after just discussing with Janson how it wouldn't. Silently, Ava continued to watch as the two boys slowly leaned in towards one another, eventually planting a gentle kiss each others' lips. 

"So much for not acting on it," Janson said in a frustrated tone. "So should we be worried that this is now effecting Thomas' actions? Will it change his trial results?"

"I can't say for sure, Janson." Ava said truthfully. She had no idea if this would do anything to the trials. 

"Should we let this continue?" Janson said, his voice now full of worry for the results of the experiment they worked so hard to develop. 

"Janson, I think you're overreacting," Ava said bluntly. "I really don't think this is something we need to be worrying about."

Janson stared back at her for a long time, anger filling his face. Ava waited quietly for him to answer, but began to grow nervous as she witnessed Janson's expression evolve from anger, to confusion, to...excitement?

"What is it?" Ava asked hesitantly. 

"We could use him, Ava." Janson muttered in a dark voice under his breath as his mind continued to race. He didn't even look at Dr. Paige while spoke.

"Use who?" Ava questioned, perplexed. 

"Newt." Janson almost seemed to spat. 

"... _Use_ him, Janson?" Ava breathed as she stood from her desk. 

"You were right, I was overreacting before. Just think of what we could do with this by using it to our advantage. Separation, betrayal, immunity. To use this relationship against Thomas could get us brain patterns that we never even dreamed of recording. This could get us what we need for the cure." Janson said, a devious look in his eye. 

Ava stared at him, eyes wide with terror and shock. She'd never admit it, but she feared Janson. Even though Ava was in charge, Janson was always the one trying to push the variables farther, to push the subjects to their very limits. As time passed, he began to act more and more irrationally, not caring about the consequences that the test subjects would have to face because of his decisions. 

"Janson, I..." Ava trailed off, speechless. 

"I'm going to go propose this to the other lab technicians. I'll stop by later with their thoughts," Janson said with more authority than he actually had. He excused himself quickly, leaving Ava alone at her desk. 

Ava turned back towards her monitor to see Thomas and Newt laying on the ground next to each other. They both laid on their sides, Newt's head buried in Thomas' chest. Thomas had one arm wrapped behind Newt's head, and another around his back. The two sat there with their eyes shut, not saying any words. Ava watched them for a long time, her heart and mind racing. As much as she knew of the importance of finding a cure for the Flare, she began to wonder how much more she would be willing to put these kids through to achieve it.

She let out a pained sigh as she watched Thomas reach up and brush Newt's hair out of his face so that he could place a quick kiss on the blonde's forehead. They both smiled and exchanged a few words before they slowing began drifting off to sleep. They looked so peaceful. So calm. So content. But because of Dr. Paige, Janson knew about them. Of course he would've found out eventually, but now he knew that their deep connection would have no negative effects on the trials. And, he knew that this could also serve as a tool to draw out new brain patterns from Thomas. Ava's stomach sank as she stared at the screen with the two boys, realizing the severity of the situation.

Thomas and Newt were already going through hell, and now Janson was going to make it worse. Guilt began to fill Ava's mind as she sat silently at her desk. She didn't mean for this to happen. And now, she was starting to wonder if she meant for any of this to happen. The maze. The trials. Did she really think that going through all of this would get them a cure? The maze trials were almost over and they were no where close to having all of the brain patterns they needed. It seemed to Ava that she was putting these kids through so much for nothing, and it hurt.

Ava pushed her chair back, leaned her elbows on her desk, and buried her face in her hands.

"What have I done?"

_"What have I done?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BAAAACK!! Finally. That was probably the longest three weeks of my life. But now that I way more free time, I can start writing and posting regularly again!! You could probably expect more updates per week now. Some chapters may be shorter, but I should be posting them more often to make up for it! Also, I wanted to thank you guys for all of the great feedback on the last chapter, and thank you so much for waiting so patiently!!! You guys are the best ;)


	21. Sun

Newt woke up first the next morning, a soft breeze brushing against his face. Upon opening his eyes he could see that it was still dark out, and that everyone else was asleep, including Thomas. As he went to sit up, Newt stopped after realizing that Thomas' arm was gently laced around his torso. Not wanting to wake Thomas up, Newt carefully slid out from underneath him and sat up on the ground. 

A sudden pain shot through Newt's back, causing him to groan. _Maybe sleeping out by the forest again wasn't the best idea..._ He thought to himself. Quietly, Newt pushed himself back against the nearby tree, pulling his knees into his chest. It was oddly chillier than normal this morning. 

The blonde sighed as he wrapped his arms around his legs, glancing over at Thomas. He smiled at the sight of him in such a calm state. Thomas' hair was all ruffled from sleeping on the grass, and he kept wrinkling his nose like he was about to sneeze. The boy had unconsciously stretched out his arms away from his body, as if he could sense that Newt was no longer laying next to him. Noticing this, Newt reached over and gently ran his hand through Thomas' hair, picking out pieces of grass as he went. 

Newt continued to stroke Thomas' hair, and without realizing it, he began to hum. He didn't remember any real songs from before the maze, but it took almost no effort for him to create a joyful melody that sounded almost like a lullaby. Newt's soft voice was the only sound that could be heard across the Glade besides the faint whistle of the breeze. He continued to gently hum under his breathe until a voice caused him to cease.

"That's pretty." The voice muttered from the ground. Newt glanced downwards and met with two tired eyes staring back at him.

"Sorry, Tommy. Didn't mean to wake you," Newt said, looking down with guilt. 

"S'okay," Thomas said groggily as he slowly sat up. He reached up with both arms and stretched out his body with a laugh, "Ouch. Remind me to not sleep on the ground again."

"Will do," Newt agreed as a smirk grew on his lips. 

Thomas laughed, and reached over to place one of his hands on top of Newt's. The motion already felt so natural. "What song was that you were humming?"

Newt blushed at the contact. "Uh...I don't really know. I just kind of made it up." 

"Well," Thomas began, "whatever it was, it was beautiful." 

Newt let out a small laugh and shook his head. He loved it when Thomas got all sappy like this. "It was nothing, really. I'm not even sure if I remember what real music sounds like."

Thomas stared at him for quite a while, clearly contemplating something. Newt sat patiently, waiting for a response, but he grew nervous at the eager look began to overtake Thomas' face. "Try singing it," he said.

Newt quickly shook his head in response, "No." 

"Why not?" Thomas asked questioningly as he raised both of his arms at his sides. 

"Because it's embarrassing..." Newt muttered, looking away. If he'd known that Thomas had woken up while he was humming, he would've stopped immediately. He probably wouldn't have even done it in the first place.

"Oh, come on Newt," Thomas said as he leaned in towards the boy, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"No," Newt repeated. He scooted a few inches away with his arms folded across his chest.

Thomas leaned in even closer to make up for the lost distance, "It's just you and me." 

"I don't-" Newt said before being interrupted. 

"Please, Newt," Thomas breathed, just inches away from Newt's face. 

"Tommy..." Newt trailed off as their foreheads touched. 

"For me?" Thomas whispered as he sealed his lips against Newt's. _Damn,_ Newt thought to himself, knowing he'd lose this battle. Newt sighed in defeat as he leaned into the kiss with almost no hesitation. He felt Thomas remove his hand from the ground and move it to the side of his face. Thomas gently held Newt's cheek until they were both out of breathe and slowly pulled away. 

"Fine," Newt breathed out heavily, "you win." He opened his eyes to look at Thomas and failed at trying to hide his smile. 

"Ha, yes!" Thomas laughed, pointing a finger at Newt. Newt had never seen such a genuinely happy smile from someone in a long time. It was nice.

"You're just lucky you're cute," Newt said as he smiled wider and leaned back against the tree. Thomas scooted over and joined him, resting his head against Newt's right shoulder. 

Newt took a moment to try and recall the melody that he'd been humming earlier, and began to sing it once he was sure he had it. He didn't look down, but he could feel Thomas smile against his shoulder as he scooted in even closer against Newt. And just like before, Newt's voice was the only sound that made its way through the Glade. But Thomas was probably the only one hearing it since everyone else was still asleep. 

The two stayed at the edge of the forest for a long time, Newt humming pleasant melodies and Thomas listening intently. And for just a moment, they'd almost forgotten they were stuck in the maze. All that mattered in that moment was each other. But, Newt and Thomas were quickly pulled from their senses as the booming sounds of the maze doors echoed through the Glade. Except, something was different. 

"Wait, why are the maze doors opening so early? It's still too dark out," Thomas said as his head left Newt's shoulder. His eyes darted across the Glade and towards the large doors as they openned. 

Newt looked at him with both concern and confusion before glancing down at his wristwatch. His stomach dropped at the sight of the time, and he could tell that his face probably went pale because of the way Thomas looked at him. 

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Thomas ask frantically. He reached out his hands, trying to offer help. 

Newt looked back at him with nothing fear in his eyes. "It's 7:00 AM, Tommy. Where's the bloody sun?" 

Thomas frowned and looked at his watch. 7:00 AM. But it still looked like it was no later than three or four in the morning. He looked up across the Glade, and could see figures of people standing up and staring at the sky in the distance. But, it was really hard to see. Everything had a dark gray tint to it. Slowly, Thomas looked towards the sky, and could feel himself begin to panic at what he saw. Newt was right. _The sun was gone._

"What do we do?" Thomas breathed out, trying to stay calm. 

"We need to get back to the others. Hopefully they'll know something we don't," Newt said quickly as he stood up. He reached out a hand to Thomas and pulled him up from the ground. Newt was about to let go when Thomas squeezed their hands even tighter. 

"Come on," Thomas said as he pulled Newt with him towards the other side of the Glade. They started out walking, but they were almost running by the time they reached some of the others. Minho spotted them first. 

"There you guys are!" Minho shouted in relief as they approached. "Where were yo-" Minho's voice cut out as he looked down and saw Thomas and Newt's hands intertwined at their sides. "Oh, shuck. Wait, are you guys-"

Newt cut him off immediately, "Not a _word,_ Minho."

A devious smile grew on Minho's face, "What? I was just gonna say it's about time you shanks hooked up."

Blushing, Newt stuttered as he responded, "Bugger off, Min."

Minho shook his head and laughed as he reached out to pat Newt's shoulder multiple times, "Congrats, bud." Minho looked over at Thomas and winked, causing him to blush as well.

"And as much as I'd love to keep embarrassing Newt," Minho said slyly as Newt shot him a dirty look, "I think we have bigger problems on our hands at the moment."

Newt sighed, clearly annoyed, and rubbed his hand over his face. "Do you know what's going on?"

"No," Minho said, his expression growing more serious. "There was no sunlight so none of us woke up until the doors opened. Now here we are." 

"Well this has to mean something," Newt said, folding his arms as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. 

_Well this has to mean something._ The phrase played over and over again in Thomas' head as he began to suddenly piece things together. The girl, Teresa. Her message. The sun disappearing. This was the start of the end. "It's the maze."

"What? What about it" Minho asked, very confused. 

"The Creators are ending the trials. They're almost done," Thomas said. 

"...Trials?" Minho asked hesitantly. 

"When Alby first woke up," Newt answered gravely, "He said that this was all just a trial in some bloody experiment the Creators made." He and Thomas both knew that it was Teresa who actually first mentioned the trials, but Newt knew that Thomas wouldn't want him mentioning his telepathy around Minho.

"You're saying this is all just one big experiment?" Minho asked, appalled. "The past _three_ years of our lives? Just some dumb trial?"

Thomas felt a sudden pang of guilt, remembering that he was involved with this somehow. Newt looked at Minho with a sad face. "Yeah, looks like it."

"I knew there was a reason I hated those klunk Creators," Minho closed his eyes as he shook his head in anger. It took a few long moments for him to compose himself, but Thomas and Newt gave him all the time he needed. It was a lot to take in. "So what happens when the trials end?" Minho asked, frowning.

"I don't want to be here to find out," Thomas said quickly as he turned to face the Keeper, "we gotta get back in the maze, Minho." 

Minho sighed. As much as he didn't want to go back out there, he knew that the boy was right. If the trials were truly coming to an end, then they have to find an exit before it's too late. "Then we better get out there. We're burning daylight." 

"Not funny," Thomas said, shaking his head as Minho shrugged. He turned to walk towards the map room with Minho, but a hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks. Thomas turned to see Newt, who wasn't even trying to hide the concern on his face. 

"Watch your back out there," Newt advised, "with everything changing, there's no telling what could be hiding in that maze."

Thomas nodded and reached out to squeeze Newt's hand again. With his free hand, Thomas reached up and brushed some stray blonde hairs away from Newt's forehead. "Don't worry, I will. Promise."

"Good that," Newt said, closing his eyes for a moment as he squeezed his Thomas' hand back before letting go. "I'm gonna have to go round everyone up before things start to get out of control. I've got a feeling it won't be easy to convince all these slintheads to go about their daily work with the sun gone and everything..."

"Good luck," Thomas said with a small smile and a wink.

"You, too," Newt said as he pulled Thomas in for a quick kiss, "Be safe."

Thomas nodded once before turning to join Minho, who'd been waiting for them off to the side. As Thomas joined him, Minho couldn't help but shoot him an amused look. "You know, you two really are cute together."

Thomas rolled his eyes and kept walking. He looked towards the other side of the Glade in attempt to hide his blush. "Slim it." 

Minho raised both his hands in defense as he jogged to catch up with Thomas. "Fine, fine. I'm done."

The two runners walked the rest of the way in silence as they approached the map room. Without wasting any time, they suited up, packed some food, and were out the door and headed towards the maze doors. 

"We lost some time this morning since we didn't wake up as early as normal," Minho said, tightening the straps around his torso, "so we won't have as much time to investigate the outer section."

Thomas shrugged, "Then we better make our time count." 

"Let's run," Minho nodded before dashing off through the doors of the maze. Thomas followed right behind Minho as they began to weave their way through the stone walls and alleys. It was darker than it usually was, but it didn't look like night time either. It was like an odd mix of the two, and it was very eerie. Both Minho and Thomas were checking over their shoulders more often than they used to.

As they ran, all Thomas could think about was how this could end. If they didn't find an exit, what would the Creators do to them? Let them stay trapped in the maze forever? Thomas shuddered at the thought. He pictured all of this friends back in the Glade, and how much longer they'd all been in the Glade before him. He didn't know if he could stand watching any more of them get hurt. They were the only family he had, now.

The thought of the Gladers is what drove Thomas forward. This was his chance to fix everything that he'd done wrong in his past, whatever it was he did. He had to find a way out of the maze, and the runners were their only shot at finding it. Thomas knew their time in the maze was now limited, and that they had to make every single second count. It could mean the difference between life and death. 

The countdown starts now.


	22. Hole

The pair ran the maze at record speed, trying to make up for lost time. They both remained quiet as they sprinted forwards, knowing that it would just be a waste of time and energy to speak to one another. The sound of their exhausted breathes echoed off the ivy stone walls. 

With every turn, more rocks. More vines. More cracks. More "WICKED" labels on the walls. The maze was so repetitive, making it more difficult to determine how much farther Thomas and Minho had until reaching the outer section. The two took turns hacking vines off the walls and throwing them onto the ground with every turn. Thomas was much better at it now. 

"Hey," Thomas breathed out, his voicing cracking from his dry throat, "Minho."

The keeper turned to face Thomas, but didn't slow down at all. "What?"

"Can we...take...a break?" Thomas panted as his speed began to slow. Minho complied quickly, feeling just as tired as Thomas. Despite their exhaustion, they were making very good time despite their late start. Thomas quickly reached down for his water and drank almost a third of it before he pulled his mouth away. He felt much better after catching his breath and quenching his thirst. 

"We're almost to the outer section," Minho said after chomping a large bite out of his apple. He looked over at Thomas with his eyebrows raised in a serious manner, "So stay alert."

Thomas nodded. "Think we'll find anything?"

Minho sighed as he tossed his apple into the air and caught it effortlessly. "We better." 

"Well, maybe since w-" Thomas suddenly stopped talking at the sudden look of terror that came over Minho's face. He was looking at something over Thomas' shoulder, so Thomas slowly followed his gaze to the other side of the alley they were in. His stomach dropped at what he saw. 

A griever. 

The metallic beast was crawling across the maze, away from Thomas and Minho. It's legs clicked and clanged as the creature shifted it's weight from side to side, sending vibrations into the ground. Thomas whipped his head back towards Minho, his mouth hanging open in shock. Minho quickly placed a finger over his mouth, motioning for Thomas to remain quiet. Thomas nodded in understanding before taking one final glance at the griever before it rounded a corner, leaving their sight. 

Thomas looked Minho dead in the eye, adrenaline already beginning to pulse through his veins. "We gotta go after it." 

"Have you finally lost your mind, shuck-face?" Minho asked, with a bewildered expression. 

"Not yet," Thomas replied. "Come on. We have to see where this thing goes. Maybe it's exit could be ours too." 

Minho stared at the boy for a solid thirty seconds before answering. This was absolutely mad. "...I can't believe we're about to do this. Lead the way." 

Quickly, but silently, Thomas bent lower on his knees as he crept up towards the corner that the griever had turned around. Approaching the edge of the wall, he looked back to make sure Minho was still with him. Together, they carefully peeked around the corner to confirm it was clear before moving on. Just as they rounded the corner, Thomas and Minho both saw a quick flash of silver light about one hundred feet away before it disappeared.

"That was it, I think," Thomas whispered over his shoulder. "Keep going." 

Thomas and Minho trailed the griever for what felt like an hour. They rounded corner after corner, hoping to find some kind of answer on the other side of them. But so far, no such luck. Every turn was exactly the same. Thomas would slowly walk around the corner first, followed by Minho. They'd spot the tail end of the griever as it changed direction, and then they would follow. 

"This is getting old," Minho muttered from behind Thomas. 

"I know," Thomas agreed, "but there's no way it'll just walk around the maze forever. Grievers usually don't come out during the day, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Minho answered. 

"So we should wait to see what it's doing out," Thomas said, picking up his speed. 

Minho sighed as he followed suit. "Well maybe it's out cause there's no sun, and it's just patrollin' around like it does at night." 

"You could be onto something, there." Thomas said as he processed the idea. It definitely made sense, especially if the trials were coming to the end. What's a grand finale without any grievers?

As the two runners rounded the next corner, they both stopped in their tracks. The griever was still fully in sight, and farther ahead of them. Luckily, it was still facing away from them, walking towards something in the distance. Thomas could tell it was picking up speed. 

"Wait," Minho said, "that's the cliff." 

Thomas strained his eyes to look farther ahead, and he saw that Minho was right. In the distance, Thomas could barely make out the blackness of the cliff. He suddenly felt an uncomfortable tingle run down his spine as he recalled the last encounter he had with Minho not too many days ago. Thomas and Minho, being pursued by four menacing monsters. Thomas could still hear the awful screeching noise they made as the grievers tumbled off the cliff one by one. 

Minho's voice pulled Thomas from his sense. "It's not slowing down...come on." Minho took off running towards the griever, still trying to remain as quiet as possible. Thomas followed. 

As the runners gained a better view of the griever, they once again slowed to a stop and waited to see what the creature would do next. The griever, which was stilling heading straight for the cliff, suddenly balled up and began rolling. From fifty feet away, Thomas and Minho could still clearly hear the sound of metal scratching against stone. And neither of them could believe what happened next. 

The griever sped up once more before rolling off the cliff and _vanishing into thin air._

Silence filled the maze as Thomas and Minho stared past the cliff, perplexed and panicked looks written across their faces. That didn't actually happen just now, did it?

"You saw that too, right?" Minho asked, concern laced in his voice. 

All Thomas could do was nod as he began to sprint towards the cliff with Minho right next to him. As they neared the edge, the two scanned the area for any sign of the griever, but found none. 

"That griever didn't fall of the cliff," Minho said, still in awe, "it disappeared. Into the air. Wow, now it sounds like _I've_ lost my mind."

Thomas looked at him, and spoke quietly under his breath, "No, I saw it too. It went right there." Thomas reached out and pointed to an area that was level with the ground and about two feet away from the cliff's edge. Deep in thought, Thomas stared at the ground for over two minutes. As he looked back up, Minho could see that he had some kind of idea. He just hoped it wasn't _too_ stupid. 

"What are you thinking in that shuck brain of yours?" Minho asked, intrigued. 

Without answering, Thomas picked up a small rock from the ground nearby and tossed it into the air towards where the griever disappeared. The piece of stone flew through the air in a fluid arc, but its flight was cut off as the rock seemingly vanished into the air as the griever had. 

"Woah, it worked!" Thomas said, completely shocked that the rock actually disappeared. 

"Try it again," Minho said loudly as he too searched the ground for more things to throw. 

This sparked curiosity and excitement in both Thomas and Minho. They both ran around, grabbing rocks, vines, and anything else they could get their hands on. The runners tossed in dozens of small things, each of them disappearing in the exact same spot. After some time, Thomas and Minho decided that they'd throw in longer vines into the hole so that they'd remember where it was when they returned. Once the hole was full of green ivy, the two stepped back to admire their handiwork. 

"So the hole is about three feet wide. Narrow gap for grievers." Minho said, his hands resting on both of his hips. 

"And maybe for us, too," Thomas said enthusiastically. "This has gotta be it, Minho. This _has_ to be our way out."

Thomas knew not to get his expectations up too much, but this was the biggest find the runners had made since first arriving in the Glade. This was the first real clue as to how they could all get out of the maze. And Thomas was really hopeful. He just had a gut feeling that this was their chance, and he didn't want to lose it. 

"We need to tell the others about this," Thomas said, suddenly very urgent. 

"You're right," Minho said, looking at his watch. "We'll be back a few hours early, but I think this takes precedence." 

"Agreed," Thomas said as he got ready to run back to the Glade. "Let's go." 

Without a word, Minho took off at a steady pace, Thomas trailing behind him. Both of them, but especially Thomas, were incredibly sore after all of that speed-running and griever-following. But they both pushed themselves even farther because they knew that their friends were waiting on them back in the Glade. And Thomas was not about to let them down. He had a promise to keep after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter this time, but another should be up tomorrow!!! (To make up for the lack of fluff in this one, haha) Happy reading ;)


	23. Leader (Newt's POV)

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE DEATH CURE**

From the Glade, Newt eyed Thomas and Minho as they entered the maze at full speed. The two runners sprinted deeper into the corridor until they rounded their first corner and vanished from Newt's sight. 

Slowly, Newt turned his gaze back towards the remaining Gladers, most of whom were just starting to get up. As he briskly walked in the direction of the group, Newt desperately hoped that chaos wouldn't break out. He knew what he really needed was Alby. Since his dreadful griever attack, the leader spent a majority of his time lock up in the Homestead. Although he'd gained a majority of his strength back over the last few days, and he'd left the Homestead a few times to work, something was still off about him. 

Alby's long absence from the Glade had put Newt in charge for the duration of it. Newt didn't mind filling in for Alby, but the exhaustion from all the stress was really starting to hit him. Newt needed Alby back, even if the old Alby wasn't there anymore. Newt just knew that he needed all the help he could get, especially since today was about to be one hell of a day. After deciding to retrieve Alby, the second in command changed his course and began to walk straight towards the Homestead. He didn't make it too far, however, before a shout from behind brought him to a stop.

"Newt! Hey Newt!" Chuck yelled as he ran to catch up with the boy. He huffed loudly as he approached and quickly spoke, "What's happening?"

Newt didn't know what to tell him. He knew that Chuck could obviously see that the sun was gone, but he didn't want to scare the poor boy any more than he already was. "Don't worry, Chuck. I'm grabbing Alby now and we're going to sort this out."

"What is there to sort out?" Chuck asked confusedly. "The sun is _gone._ "

Newt sighed in frustration. "Just give me a minute to get Alby and then I'll head back out." 

"Okay..." Chuck trailed off as he glanced over towards the other Gladers, obviously searching for someone in particular. "Where are Thomas and Minho? All the other runners are still here..."

"They're in the maze," Newt answered quietly. Even though he knew that they had to go back out there, he didn't approve of it one bit. With everything else changing in the Glade, there's no telling what could be changing out in the maze as well. He just hoped Thomas and Minho would make it back alright. Newt didn't know if he could handle another mishap of them being trapped in the maze again.

"Still? Even with everything that's happening?" Chuck asked, making no attempt to hide the astonishment in his voice. 

"Well, we're hoping with everything that's changing here, everything out there might be changing too," Newt said, wearing a calm expression on his face. He stared at Chuck curiously for a moment before continuing, "Actually, I'd really appreciate it if you'd help me out with something."

"What?" Chuck asked, eager to help in any way he could.

"Do you think you could wait by that door over there," Newt paused to point at the maze door that sat behind the two of them. "And as soon as Minho and Tommy get back, come get me or Alby? It's urgent for them to let us know whatever they find out there."

Chuck stared at him for a few moments before answering Newt with a small smirk. "Yeah, sure thing Newt." Chuck turned and began to stroll towards the doors, eyeing the sunless sky above him as he went.

Newt continued on his path to the Homestead. By the time he reached the doors, concerned murmurs could be heard from the other Gladers as they realized what was going on. _I need to hurry,_ Newt thought to himself, _before things get out of hand._

The boy quickly walked over to where Alby's room was, and he paused just outside of the closed door. Newt took in a deep breath to calm his nerves before gently knocking on the door and letting himself in a few seconds later. 

"...Alby?" Newt asked as he peeked his head in from around the other side of the door. The room was dark, and Newt had to let his eyes adjust before stepping in. Alby sat on the other side of the room in a wooden chair, staring out his small window with an expressionless face. He hadn't moved since Newt came in. Newt slowly walked over, and sat in the other chair adjacent to Alby. Just before he spoke again, Newt realized how nervous he was. He'd hardly spoken to Alby since that day he first woke up after the Changing. After he tried to choke himself. "Alby, can you hear me?"

Alby slowly turned his head to face Newt. His face continued to lack any form of emotion. "Yes." 

Newt was taken aback for a moment at how out of it Alby truly was. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking again. "Alby, the sun's...gone."

Alby sighed as he turned to look back out the window. "I know." 

Newt leaned forward in his seat slightly. "Everyone needs you out there. They look up to you. _I_ need you out there, Alby." 

"What can I do for them, Newt?" Alby turned to Newt, desperation and sadness suddenly taking over his face. His fists were tightly clenched in his lap.

"They need someone they can follow. And I...I can't do this alone." Newt said, his statement ringing with nothing but truth. He didn't know how much longer he could keep things in the Glade under control without Alby's help. 

"But _where_ will I lead them? There's nowhere to go." Alby spat, anger quickly growing in his voice. He had a wild look in his eye. 

"Well you can't expect us to just stay here!" Newt abruptly stood from his chair, sending it two feet backwards. It clattered to the ground as Newt reached up and gestured towards the Glade. "The sun is _gone,_ Alby! That means we have no sun for crops. No crops for the livestock. And no livestock for us. And we don't have any other means of food because the bloody box still hasn't gone back down. We can't stay here. Not anymore."

Alby stared at the blonde in shock, his eyes wide with surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Alby's eyes fell to the ground. Newt didn't move from where he was, standing above Alby and breathing heavily with rage. The old Alby never would have given up so easily. 

"Newt," Alby's voice cracked as he broke the heavy silence in the room, "I know we can't stay here. But you didn't see what I saw after the Changing. And if what I saw is really what the world is like now, then there is no place for us out there."

Newt folded his arms across his chest and stared down at Alby, a frown still on his face. It hurt him so much to see Alby like this. "...How could you just give up like this, Alby?"

Alby sighed and gave him an apologetic look. He knew where Newt was going with this. "Newt, I-"

"No!" Newt snapped as he took a large step forward. "Tell me how."

Alby looked at Newt and saw tears forming at the edges of his eyes. It took everything he had not to do the same. "I...I can't. I don't know, I...I just-"

"The day I...jumped," Newt said so quietly that Alby almost missed what he was saying, "I broke my leg. And you could've just left me there, you know. I was as good as dead. But you didn't. You didn't give up, and you wouldn't let me give up either." Newt knelt down and placed a hand on Alby's arm. "So now it's time for me to return the favor. I'm not giving up on anyone here, and I'm sure as hell not gonna let you give up on them either, whether you like it or not." 

Silence filled the room for a very long time, but neither of the boys moved from where they sat. It took a lot for Alby to muster up the strength to speak again. He looked at Newt sincerely and whispered, "Where can we go?"

"Doesn't matter," Newt answered, "because right now our only place is with each other. We're a family, here. And we'll stay together through it all, wherever we end up." 

Alby nodded, taking in Newt's words. To Newt's relief, it looked like he was finally starting to get through to his friend. Alby looked back at Newt with a very small smile. "You're right." 

"Of course I am," Newt said, a smile growing on his face as well. He went to stand but Alby grabbed his arm to stop him. 

"I'm sorry," Alby said, his eyes still sad. 

Newt shook his head, and offered Alby a hand. And when the leader stood, Newt reached out and patted his back. "It's good to have you back, Alby." 

Alby returned a larger smile before the two made their way down the halls of the Homestead and out into the Glade.They didn't talk as they strode towards the confused group of boys, but Newt watched Alby. He had this look in his eye that seemed familiar. Like he was really starting to return to his old self again.

"Everyone, SLIM IT!" Alby shouted as they finally reached the group. They'd grown very loud, and had not idea what they were supposed to do. The boys all turned to Alby, some in shock and others in relief. Their leader was back, and right when they needed him most. "As you all may have seen, the sun has disappeared. So I understand the reason for panic. But panicking will get us nowhere." Alby paused to turn and give Newt an appreciative look. 

"We need to keep working, and go about our daily jobs," Newt added. "I know that seems like the last thing we'd do but, we need to keep everyone together and focused. The more we work, the sooner we'll get out of here."

"Newt's right. And since we've already wasted enough of our valuable time as it is, let's get to work!" Alby said with a sense of authority. And to Newt's surprise, all of the Gladers did as they were told. No questions. They all just turned and went to their daily stations as if nothing was wrong. Having Alby back made all the difference. 

"Thanks, Alby," Newt said with much appreciation. 

"And thank _you,_ Newt. Really. I'm gonna walk the perimeter, make sure everyone is handling the news okay. As for you, I think food is our number one priority. Why don't you head over to the gardens and help out there." Alby replied, becoming more like his old self with every sentence he spoke. 

"Okay," Newt said as he turned and walked straight towards the gardens, where the other track-hoes had already gathered. 

Zart was the first to spot him. "Oh, Newt. Perfect timing, we could use some extra help picking these tomatoes." 

Newt nodded, snatched an empty basket from the ground, and walked over to the stalk across from Zart. He immediately began to brush the plant's leaves from side to side, searching for the ripest tomatoes. He plucked them carefully but efficiently, plopping each one into his basket. 

"I'm glad you got Alby up and out today," Zart started, "I think it really helped keep everyone calm." 

"Yeah," Newt said as he picked two more tomatoes, "me too." 

"You know, you've always been the one to keep us all together." Zart said. 

"Really?" Newt asked genuinely. 

"Without you, I'm sure this place would've fallen apart already. Especially after Alby went through the Changing and you were in charge. You just kinda help keep everyone glued together." Zart added as he picked a tomato from the top of his plant and threw it in his basket. 

Newt didn't really know how to answer, but he shot an appreciative smile in Zart's direction. He noticed and nodded in acknowledgement. 

"And speaking of glued together..." Zart began to say, "you and Thomas have been attached at the hip for the past two days." 

Newt froze for a moment in his placed and stopped what he was doing. He could tell he was already blushing, so he tried to hide his face behind the tomato plants as he started working again. When he didn't answer, he could he Zart stop working and lean around his plant to get a better look at Newt. 

"I just couldn't help but wonder if you two were..." Zart trailed off as he finally leaned over enough to catch a glimpse of Newt's face. He laughed at the sight of the blonde's cheeks turning as red as the tomatoes. 

"Yeah, we are," Newt said, turning towards the ground in attempt to hide his face. "And I've already gotten enough klunk about it from Minho, so I'd appreciate it if-"

"Hey," Zart said with a genuine smile, "I just wanted to say that I'm happy for you both." 

Newt sighed and shook his head as a smile grew on his face. He looked back up to see the keeper still smiling at him. "Thank you, Zart." 

"Anytime, bud," Zart said as he returned to his work. "Anytime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's already been four months since I posted the first chapter of this fic?!!?! So damn fast. But on this momentous occasion, I'd just like to thank you all again for your amazing feedback and support. If it wasn't for you guys, I don't know if I'd still be writing this thing. You all have really made a difference. So, thanks a million <3


	24. Exit

"Hey," Minho said to Thomas as they ran side by side at a steady pace towards the Glade. "I want to show you all of our maps today."

"What?" Thomas panted, but didn't slow down. 

"All the runners map out their outer sections of the maze every day." Minho spoke between his controlled breathes. Unlike Thomas, Minho didn't sound like he was tired at all. Running was truly second nature to him now. "I was gonna show you yesterday after dinner, but you were kind of...uh...preoccupied." 

Thomas rolled his eyes when Minho turned and winked at him. "Okay. But shouldn't we tell Newt about what we found first?" 

Minho thought about it for a minute before agreeing. "Yeah, good plan. Come on, we're almost there." Minho picked up his pace slightly, eager to get back to the Glade. They'd found the most promising clue anyone had ever seen here before. It had to mean something important. It just had to. 

The pair rounded four more corners before finally entering the corridor that led to the Glade. They slowed down to a walk just before reaching the grass, which appeared much darker than normal due to the missing sunlight. Chuck could hear Thomas and Minho approaching, and quickly pushed off from the wall he was leaning against and walked towards them. 

"Wow, you're back early!" Chuck exclaimed, a hint of excitement in his voice. He knew that there was only reason they would return earlier than normal. "Did you find something out there?"

Thomas reached out and patted Chuck on the back. "I think we did, Chuck. At least I hope we did." 

A large smile grew on Chuck's face, and Thomas couldn't help but smile back. It made him feel good to see Chuck so happy. Now, Thomas just hoped that what he and Minho found was actually a legitimate exit, and not just a false hope. Thomas stared back at Chuck, wondering why the boy was right at the entrance when they arrived. "Hey Chuck, were you waiting for us to get back for something?"

"Oh, yeah!" Chuck said. For a brief moment, he'd forgotten the very important task that Newt had assigned him. "Newt had me wait here so I could take you guys to him as soon as you got back. Follow me, I think he's in the gardens." 

Thomas and Minho both pulled out their water bottles, drinking whatever was left as they followed behind Chuck. Chuck cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted Newt's name once they were a few dozen feet from the gardens. Newt turned and greeted them with a relieved smile before heading over, along with someone else.

"Thanks Chuckie, I owe you one," Newt said as he joined them and pat Chuck's shoulder in appreciation. Chuck brushed it off before heading back towards the Homestead to look for more work.

"Alby?" Minho said, his voice full of surprise as he spotted the boy behind Newt. The leader gave Minho a smile and a curt nod, a noticeable look of guilt in his eyes. Completely ignoring Alby's apologetic expression, Minho wrapped him into a tight hug with a laugh. Alby began to laugh as well, shaking his head. 

"I'm sorry, Mi-" Alby started as they pulled apart. 

"Don't," Minho said as he pat Alby a few times on the shoulder, "It's good to have ya back, shuck-face." 

"It's good to be back," Alby said before Newt changed the subject. His tone was much more serious.

"You're back early," Newt noted as he glanced at his watch, "Does that mean you found something?"

Minho and Thomas shared a nervous but excited look. They really hoped that they wouldn't just sound crazy after explaining what they'd found in the maze. Thomas took a deep breath and spoke first, "I think we found a way out of the maze." 

A look of shock and disbelief came over both Newt's and Alby's faces as they processed what they'd just heard. After being trapped in the Glade for _three_ entire years, this was the first time that they found something that could get them out. It was hard to swallow at first, but then the idea of escaping the maze finally began to sink in. They could get out. They could survive this. 

"Y-you're serious?" Newt spoke up first. He looked over and saw Alby with a surprised face, but it looked...forced. Despite what Newt said to Alby earlier, the images from the Changing were still in his mind, reminding him of what lay beyond the walls. 

"I think so, yeah," Thomas said quietly, staring at Newt with truth in his eyes. Newt stared back at him, and the sincere look on Thomas' face made him hopeful. 

"Well, what is it?" Newt asked impatiently. 

"This is where it gets weird," Minho spoke up, "But you gotta trust me on this." He waited for both Newt and Alby to nod in agreement before continuing. "Out in the maze, we found a griever lurkin' about. So this dumb shank," Minho paused to punch Thomas in the shoulder jokingly, "Has us follow the thing. Then after a while, it came up to the cliff. Then, this is the crazy part, it rolled off the cliff and into an invisible hole."

"The griever hole," Thomas added blatantly. 

Newt and Alby both remained silent as they stared at the two runners. And, once again, Newt was the first to speak up, "A hole?"

"Yes," Thomas said. 

"That's in the air?" Newt continued. 

"Yes," Thomas answered again. 

"And invisible?" Newt questioned farther. 

"Yeah..." Thomas said. "It kinda does sound crazy when you hear it from someone else." 

"And where, might I ask, does this hole lead to?" Newt asked as he folded his arms across his chest. 

Minho sighed, knowing that Newt and Alby wouldn't like the answer at all. "We're not really sure," he started, "But we think it leads to where the grievers normally go during the day." 

Newt's eyes grew wider with shock. "And you expect us to go through there?!"

"It's all we've got." Minho said bluntly. 

Newt couldn't believe any of this. If it was any other day, he would've thought this was all a joke. But the seriousness in Thomas and Minho's eyes is what convinced him that they were actually telling the truth. He looked over towards Alby again to find a surprising calm look over the boy's face. 

"This is _completely_ mental, I hope you realize that," Newt said as he covered his face with his hands, trying to think. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Minho was right. This was their only shot at getting out so far. This was bigger than anything else they'd found in the last _three years._

Silence overcame the group before Alby, who'd remain quiet, finally spoke. "I want you back out there first thing tomorrow to check it out. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure thing." Minho answered quickly. He was still surprised at the quick and unexpected change in Alby, but also relieved. For the first time in what felt like a long time (even though it had only been a few days), Minho could see the old Alby in the leader's eyes. It was comforting.

"Good that," Alby answered. "I need to get back over there. I'll see you later." 

As Alby walked off in the opposite direction, Minho faced Thomas. "Let's go have a look at those maps." 

"Okay," Thomas said. He turned to follow Minho but stopped when he caught a quick glimpse of Newt. He turned back and walked over, and slowly reached up to rub the side of Newt's arm. "Hey, you okay?"

Thomas could tell something was off in Newt's eyes. But he didn't know what to make of it, considering he'd never seen Newt like this before. Instinctively, Thomas' hand made its way up to the side of Newt's face. He gently cupped the boy's cheek and studied Newt's expression even more closely. 

Newt unconsciously leaned in to Thomas' touch, his expression growing slightly softer. He looked back at Thomas with the most sincere look he'd ever given. "You really found a way out?" He almost whispered. 

Thomas nodded but said nothing. He didn't really know what to say, considering he was also still in shock from what they'd found in the maze. It had the potential to change everything.

Newt stared back at Thomas for a very long time, his eyes unreadable. For a brief moment, Thomas began to panic when he saw what looked like tears forming in Newt's eyes, but he calmed down at the sight of a smile forming on his face. Thomas smiled back as Newt reached up and placed his own hand on top of Thomas', which was still resting on Newt's face. The blonde let out a soft melodious chuckle, his eyes never leaving Thomas'. Could this actually be happening?

Meanwhile, Thomas just watched Newt, taking in his every feature. The way his eyes somehow still managed to shine, even without sunlight. His ruffled and dirty hair from working in the gardens all day. And his smile that made you forget about everything wrong in the world, even if just for a moment. Newt's smile was Thomas' favorite. The boy was so distracted that he missed part of what Newt said when he spoke again. 

"...just hard to believe." Newt said, staring back at Thomas in complete awe. He was still in denial. "But I bloody hope you're right, Tommy." 

"Me too," Thomas said nervously as he let his hand fall back to his side. He tried to push away the images in his mind of what would happen if this exit was all a big lie.

Minho had realized that Thomas stopped following him once he was about twenty feet away. When he turned back, he saw Thomas, his hand on Newt's face, both of them laughing together. They looked so genuine. In the time he'd known Newt, Minho had never seen Newt smile the way he was now. But as much as he enjoyed seeing his friend so happy, it also scared him. Danger lurked around every corner in the maze. Literally. Minho didn't know if he could handle seeing any more of his friends get hurt. 

"Alright!" Minho shouted to the pair after giving them a few more seconds, "Let's get a move on, Romeo!"

Thomas blushed as he turned to see Minho waiting for him. "I gotta go." 

Newt couldn't help but chuckle at the way Thomas' cheeks turned red at his nickname. "I'll see you tonight, then." 

Thomas nodded and gave Newt's hand a quick squeeze before jogging to catch up to Minho. Thomas had to admit, Minho had a real talent for embarrassing Thomas. "Sorry," Thomas mumbled when he reached him, his face still slightly red. 

"Makin' me wait two times in one day...you're pushing your luck, Thomas," Minho said. Thomas felt bad until he saw the joking smile on the keeper's face. The two walked into the map room to find it completely empty. Then, Thomas remembered that they got back early, and that the other runners got an even later start than they had. They were still out in the maze.

"Okay," Minho said as he gathered materials and laid them out onto the table in front of them. "The inner section of the maze never changes, so no need to record that. What we do need is the pattern of the outer section. So today, we were in section six. I pretty much have the layouts memorized, but I'll show you how to draw it."

Thomas sat down next to Minho and the two drew out the wall patterns for the entire area within section six. Thomas was amazed and how well Minho remembered every single turn. Thomas remembered some of it, but definitely not enough to draw a whole map of it. 

"So you said that the sections change in a pattern? And repeats itself every month?" Thomas asked, recalling what Minho said to him while they were out in the maze yesterday. 

"Yeah. Exact same wall patterns every month for three years. Nothing has ever changed from that. At first we tried finding patterns between the days within each section, but we never found anything significant." Minho said, sounding a little defeated as he continued to draw today's map for section six. 

"Well now we have the griever hole," Thomas suggested. "It's better than nothing." 

"Yeah..." Minho trailed off. "It's just that we don't know anything abo-"

The door of the map room bursting open caused both runners to drop their pencils and whip their heads to the source of the noise. In the doorway stood none other than Chuck, frantic and out of breath. 

"Chuck? What's going on?" Thomas started, seeing the concern in the young boy's eyes. 

"It's the girl. She's awake." Chuck answered. 

As soon as the last words left Chuck's lips, Thomas felt a strange tingling feeling in the back of his head. And he knew what it was. Just as she had before, Teresa spoke to Thomas inside his mind. It felt as if her voice echoed and bounced within Thomas' head as she spoke just above a whisper. 

_Everything's fading, Tom. Where are you?_

"Thomas?" Minho asked, eyeing the boy as his face grew paler by the second. Thomas ignored him, trying to focus on Teresa's voice. 

_The maze is a code, Tom. It's a code._


	25. Wake

Teresa's word echoed through Thomas' head over and over. She kept repeating that the maze was a code, whatever the hell that meant. But what stood out to Thomas the most was that Teresa seemed to still have some of her memories, and he knew that they needed to talk. Now. 

_Tom, I don't know these people. Everything's fading._ Teresa spoke to him again. Thomas was starting to get used to the feeling of someone else inside his head, despite not knowing how they were even able to do such things. 

_I'm in the forest,_ Teresa said quickly, her voice sounding more nervous. _Come find me. Please hurry._

Teresa's final words hadn't even made it to Thomas' mind before he was already out the door and sprinting towards the dense treeline across the Glade. He didn't acknowledge Minho or Chuck as they yelled at him, asking where he was going. Thomas just ran, his eyes locked on the forest ahead. As he neared the trees he slowed to a jog, his head whipping left to right in search of the girl. With no success, he resorted to calling her name. 

"Teresa! Are you out here?" Thomas called loudly as he continued to scan the area. He was almost ready to give up and head back before a figure appeared from behind a wide and bulky tree. 

"Tom?" Teresa said as she stepped forward. Without the sun, it was quite dark in the forest. Thomas had a difficult time seeing her face despite how close Teresa was to him. "Do you remember me?"

Thomas stared at her through the darkness. Despite the familiarity in her face, Thomas had no clue as to who she actually was. It made him uncomfortable, considering Teresa seemed to recognize him. "No. But you seem to remember me, calling me Tom and all. Everyone here calls me Thomas, well, except Newt. He calls me Tommy." 

"I know who you are, but I don't know how I know you...if that makes sense. I know you're Tom, but that's it." Teresa said sadly. 

"But do you remember anything else?" Thomas asked impatiently, wanting to dig for more information that they could use to get out of the maze. "When you were still in a coma you said you 'triggered the ending' and when you first woke up you said the 'maze was a code.' Do you remember saying any of that to me?"

Teresa hesitated. "No, I don't. But..."

Thomas took a step closer. "But what?" 

"I found this on my arm when I woke up. I think _I_ wrote it," Teresa whispered as she lifted her arm and pulled up the sleeve on her shirt. Thomas had to squint in order to read the handwriting in darkness. He gasped at what he saw. Written in a dark blue ink, three words were frantically scribbled onto the girl's arm:

WICKED is good. 

WICKED. The same acronym that was printed across the walls out in the maze. The name of the Creators that put them here. But why were they _good_? Thomas had a lot of words to describe those people, but "good" was definitely not on that list. "Why would you write that?" Thomas asked. 

"I don't know," Teresa said. "But it must have been important." 

The sudden sound of footsteps heading towards the pair caused them to stop talking. As they both strained their eyes to see in the dark, they could make out multiple figures heading towards them. 

"Why'd you run off like that, shuck-face?" Minho asked once he was close enough to see them. Before Thomas could answer, another voice caused him to look over Minho's shoulder. 

"Tommy? What's going on?" Newt said as he jogged to catch up with Minho, his limp becoming more apparent as he ran. 

Thomas looked back and forth between the three of them before speaking. "Sorry, uh...this is Teresa. Teresa, this is Minho and Newt."

The three all nodded towards each other in acknowledgement, but remained quiet. It was like they were all waiting for something, but they didn't know what it was. Newt spoke first. He walked towards the girl and placed himself directly between her and Thomas. His body language at the moment certainly did not match his kind voice. "Glad to see you're up and about, Teresa. Are you feeling alright?"

Teresa hesitantly looked past Newt at Thomas before answering. "Uh...yeah. I'm okay." 

Minho stayed back, his arms folded as he leaned against a tree. He pushed himself back to a standing position as he joined into the conversation. "You must be, after giving Clint a beating like that." 

"What?" Thomas asked, knowing he'd missed something. 

Minho turned to him. "This one," he nodded towards Teresa, "woke up and clocked Clint right in the face, climbed out the window, and ran out here." 

Teresa gave the trio an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry. I was just...I didn't know wh-"

"It's alright," Newt said, "this place can be a lot to take in, especially with no memories to start with. I'm positive Clint won't hold it against you." 

"Are you sure?" Teresa asked, regret filling her quiet voice. 

Newt nodded in response, but didn't speak at first. His mind seemed to drift somewhere else as the expression on his face grew more confused. He cocked his head at the girl and Thomas. "Is there anything else we should know?" 

Thomas opened his mouth and took a quick glance at Teresa's arm, where she'd written her message. She followed the boy's glance and quickly yanked her sleeve down. An desperate expression that said _Don't tell them_ was written all over her face.

"We were just, uh...I was seeing what she remembered, if anything." Thomas stuttered. He really wanted to tell Newt and Minho about the message, but he chose to trust Teresa's judgement. 

"And?" Minho asked, eyebrows raised in expectation. 

Teresa spoke before Thomas could. "I don't remember much. I recognized Tom, but I don't remember how I know him. That's it." 

Both Minho and Newt shared an intrigued look before turning back to the girl. Teresa didn't remember much, but it was still more than any of the other Gladers. Without speaking, they both had the same idea. "Well, we can take you around the Glade, see if we can trigger any memories," Newt said to Teresa. "Come on, we need to head back anyways." 

The group all began to head back towards the Glade, stomping over countless twigs and fallen branches. They snapped and cracked under the Gladers' footsteps as they went on. Minho and Newt led the way, but Newt slowed his pace until he was walking next to Thomas. He didn't do anything else until Teresa eventually asked Minho about the Glade. From there, Minho went on to explain the basic rules and jobs that people do, not realizing that he and Teresa were drifting farther apart from the other two.

Newt leaned in towards Thomas so that their arms brush with every step, erasing the distance between them. Without hesitation, Newt intertwined their fingers and gave Thomas' hand a small squeeze. "Hey," he said softly.

Thomas turned to him with a smile, "Hi."

"How was map-making?" Newt asked, interested to hear if they'd found anything significant.

Thomas laughed and shook his head. "Much harder than it looks. Minho's a pro. I drew a few parts, but he did almost all of it. We looked at the section patterns, but I didn't really see anything. We were almost done when..."

Newt looked up at Thomas as he trailed off, eyebrows furrowing. "When what?" Newt asked.

"Uh, Chuck came in and said Teresa woke up. Then," Thomas lowered his voice so the others wouldn't hear, "she asked me to meet her out here."

"Meet you? For what?" Newt questioned quickly.

"She just wanted to see me, I guess, since I'm the only person here she knows here." Thomas answered.

Newt frowned at him for a moment. Something was off in Thomas' voice, and he could tell. There was definitely something he wasn't telling him. "What else did she say to you? Before we got there?"

"Uh," Thomas said, "Nothing major. I don't think she mentioned anything else."

Thomas sighed. He desperately wanted to tell Newt what Teresa had shown him, but he knew he shouldn't. He didn't want to say anything until he knew exactly what Teresa's message meant. Misinterpretation could end disastrously, and the last thing Newt needed was _another_ thing to worry about.

Teresa didn't want them to know about her arm, so Thomas kept his mouth shut. At least for now. Thomas kicked himself for doing this. Keeping a secret from Newt was probably going to be one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

"You sure?" Newt asked, unconvinced. He knew Thomas was lying.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure." Thomas nodded quickly.

Newt stared at Thomas for what felt like forever before looking back ahead of them. For the rest of their walk back to the Glade, they strolled silently, hand in hand. It wasn't until the group of four had broken the treeline before someone can stomping up to them, fast.

"There you are." A firm and loud voice said. Thomas leaned over past Minho and Teresa to see a very furious Alby pointing accusingly at the girl. In a mere second, he grabbed both her shoulders and pinned her against the nearest tree. Teresa made no attempt to break free, terrified of the wild look on Alby's face.

"Alby?! What do you think you're doing?" Minho asked frantically as he ran up behind the two.

Alby ignored him, his dark eyes never leaving Teresa's face. "What did you do?" He spat.

"What? I-" Teresa tried to say above Alby's voice.

 _"What did you do?"_ Alby almost yelled this time. The other three stood there in complete shock, taken off-guard by Alby's sudden mood change. He seemed fine and back to his normal self just a few hours ago. And now, he had the same look in his eye that he had when he first woke up from the Changing.

Newt walked up and put a strong hand on Alby's shoulder but Alby let go of Teresa momentarily to push him away. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Alby?" Newt exclaimed.

" _You_ wake up, and now _this_ happens." Alby muttered in Teresa's confused and scared face. "Tell me what you did. NOW."

"Alby, what happened?" Newt asked in a panicked voice. Even after the Changing, he'd never seen Alby act this crazy. He was worried for his friend, and the expression on his face showed it.

Alby slowly turned his head to face the trio. He looked them all in the eye before finally returning his gaze to Newt. "Have you seen the time, slinthead?"

All three of the boys looked down to check their watches. When they still seemed just as confused, Alby groaned in frustration, impatiently rolling his eyes at the group. "Look around," Alby said, releasing an arm from Teresa's shoulder to gesture across the entire Glade.

Thomas looked across the open green area, his eyes stopping on the tall stone walls. He glanced back and forth between his watch and the walls multiple times before his stomach sank with the realization of what Alby meant.

Alby saw Thomas' look of understanding and spoke. "The doors. They didn't close tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, things are starting to pick up!! Leave a comment if you stopped by, I'm always looking for more feedback. Comments keep me going, so the more I get, the more I try to update! And as always, thanks for reading <3


	26. Waiting

Thomas took in a sharp breath as he stared at the wide open doors from across the Glade. His glanced then shifted to Minho, then Newt. They all shared the same terrified expression. They knew what this meant. 

"Grievers." Minho muttered quickly, his body visibly growing more tense by the second. 

"What?" Teresa asked, knowing that she was missing something important. And by the looks that had taken over the boys' faces, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know what it was. 

Alby pointed towards Teresa harshly as he spoke, "Lock her up." 

"Woah, wait a minute. Why?" Thomas asked, stepping forward cautiously. 

" _She_ did this, Greenie," Alby said, reverting back to using Thomas' first nickname. "I don't think we can trust her quite yet." 

"But what about the Grievers?! She'll be out here by herself!" Thomas said accusingly. 

"All things considered," Newt said as he intervened the conversation, "the Slammer is probably the safest place in the buggin' Glade at the moment." 

Thomas thought about what he said, and knew that Newt was right. The walls and doors of the Slammer were very heavy duty, and would take a lot more to bring than the thinner walls of the Homestead. But despite this, Thomas was still nervous about leaving someone outside with the doors open at night. "But-"

Teresa interrupted him, keeping her eyes on Alby's face. The furious look in his eyes told her that no matter what anyone said, he could not be swayed to let her stay anywhere besides the Slammer for the night. "It's fine, I'll go." 

The four boys all looked at her in shock, especially Thomas. He opened his mouth to fight it, but Teresa cut him off again. "I think I can handle myself pretty well, thanks." 

"Alright, then," Alby said as he nodded with approval. "We need to get moving. Now." With his last word, Alby grabbed Teresa's arm and turned to guide her towards the Slammer. The other three reluctantly followed, the gravity of their situation finally starting the sink in. The doors were open. And nothing was stopping the Grievers from charging into the Glade at any given moment. This new sense of vulnerability sent a shiver down Thomas' back. 

As the group approached the Slammer, Alby pulled out a set of keys and opened the nearest door. Teresa stopped to take one last look back at Thomas before stepping into the small cell. Alby locked the door and turned to face the others, his face expressionless. "Round everyone up," he ordered, "get them inside the Homestead immediately, except for the builders. Have them start barricading the windows and doors." 

Newt and Minho nodded as they, along with Alby, ran off in different directions. Thomas remained at the cell, however, still hesitant to leave Teresa by herself for an entire night. "You sure you'll be okay?" He asked nervously. 

Teresa paused but her response was confident. "Yeah. Don't worry about me." 

Thomas nodded. "Oh, and...uh...if you need something, you can, um, talk to me." He sighed and shook his head before continuing. "I can try to answer back, but..."

Teresa showed the slightest hint of a smile through the cell door at Thomas' offer. _You'll learn how._

Thomas was taken aback for a moment by the sudden and unexpected entrance inside his mind, but he regained his composer much quicker than he had earlier. It took some time, but Thomas was finally starting the accept the fact that he and Teresa could speak telepathically. As he stood to leave, Thomas nodded at Teresa and muttered a quick "See you tomorrow." But he only took a few steps before turning back around. "Wait, Teresa?"

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," She said with a small laugh, "What is it?" 

"What do you think you meant, you know, when you said that the maze was a code?" Thomas asked, once again kneeling in front of the cell door. 

Teresa frowned. "I don't know. You mean a code, like a message?" 

"Yeah, I guess." Thomas sighed. "But how could the maze give us a message? I mean it couldn't just spell it out for us, ri-" Thomas cut himself off as his eyes grew wide. His eyes darted everywhere as if he was trying to piece something together in his mind. 

Teresa saw this. "What are you thinking?" 

Thomas looked back at her and hesitated before answering. "Maybe the maze _could_ spell it out for us. Teresa, you're a genius." 

She laughed, "Thanks...I think?" Thomas smiled back before he stood and ran off in the other direction.

As Thomas made his way towards the Homestead, he could see that Minho was ushering the final few Gladers into the Homestead. The keeper reached out to pat Thomas' shoulder but the strange look on Thomas' face stopped him from doing so. "What's wrong?"

"The maps," Thomas blurted out, out a breathe from sprinting over so quickly. "The maps."

"What about'm?" Minho asked. 

"Someone needs to stay with the maps. I think they _really could_ be important. Like, getting us out of the maze important." Thomas said even faster. 

Minho stared at him like he had just lost his mind. "Thomas, we just looked at them. I don't think they'll help finding a way o-"

"You gotta trust me on this one, Minho. I'm not really sure about how this could work either. But we need someone to stay with the maps tonight, make sure they're safe." Thomas said desperately. 

Minho just stared at him blankly before a voice from behind him spoke. "I'll do it." 

The two turned to see Alby approaching them. "I need a job," Alby said, "And I don't think I'm in the right state of mind to be in charge right now." 

Thomas and Minho shared a questioning glance before Thomas spoke up. "Okay, just be careful out there." 

"You don't need to tell me," Alby said as he rushed out the doors and to the map room. 

Minho shook his head and sighed. "We're so shucked." 

Once inside the Homestead, Thomas was overwhelmed by the number of people rushing back and forth carrying supplies and tools. Loud shouts and frantic cries echoed through the Homestead. In every room, builders frantically pounded large pieces of wood to the windows, barricading everyone inside the building. Thomas and Minho split up, offering help wherever it was needed. Time seemed to pass all too quickly as the piles of wooden planks on the floor diminished from sight. By the time the barricades were completely built, it was almost midnight.

Thomas could feel the exhaustion radiating from each person, but he knew that sleep would be difficult to achieve tonight. Although it was still quiet outside, everyone seemed to be on their toes, silently and painstakingly waiting for something to attack. 

By now, most of the Gladers had settled in for the night. They all had brought their blankets in with them, and they were now spread out all across the floor in every room. Thomas, Minho, and some others had stayed up to make double check the barricades one final time. Once everything seemed to be in order, Thomas and Minho made their way to bed.

Tightly grasping their blankets, Thomas and Minho slowly made their way up the stairs to the second floor. Thomas shuffled over to the room on the right, while Minho walked towards the one across the hall. After reaching their doors, they both turned and gave each other one last reassuring look before going inside. Thomas could barely see his face through the thick darkness. Newt had ordered all lights to be put out just a few hours earlier. 

The runner entered the room with caution, trying his hardest not to wake anyone up. He squinted his eyes to get a better look of the room, and he saw that there were a small handful of boys scattered across the floor, all of whom appeared to be asleep. Thomas' eyes scanned across the room and stopped on the cot, where he spotted Newt. The boy was curled up underneath a thin sheet, which was pulled all the way up over his nose. 

Thomas couldn't help but smile at the way Newt hid his face with his bed sheets. He sat on the floor beside the bed, and stopped to study Newt before spreading out his own blanket on the floor. _Beautiful_ , Thomas thought to himself as he reached up and gently stroked the stray hairs across Newt's forehead. Newt stirred in bed at the touch, causing Thomas to smile again. As he pulled his hand back and turned to lay down under his blanket, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. When Thomas looked back up, he was met with two eyes peeking out from the sheet, which still managed to catch light despite the darkness. 

"Come up here," Newt whispered as he pulled his sheet down to reveal his entire face. 

Thomas raised his eyebrows in response. "Is there enough room?" 

Newt glanced down at the cot. It was actually quite small, slightly thinner than the normal twin-sized beds they had in some of the other rooms. When he turned back to face Thomas, he had a sly smirk on his face. "Guess we'll just have to cuddle." 

Thomas smiled back, trying to stifle his laugh. He carefully sat up on his knees before pressing his hands on the cot and pulling himself on top of it. He, as well as Newt, laid down on their sides so that they were facing each other. The small size of the bed had forced them closer, so that their faces were just a few inches apart. They both sat in silence for quite a while, just staring at one another. Even with the lack of light, they still didn't need words to communicate. They knew what the other wanted to say. 

"How are you?" Newt asked as softly and quietly as he possibly could, not wanting to wake the other Gladers in the room. 

Thomas almost automatically answered with a standard "I'm fine" or "Good," but he stopped himself. How _did_ he feel? Well, he was currently sitting in a fortified building waiting for the worst to happen. Questions flooded Thomas' mind as he assessed his situation more thoroughly. Were the barricades they had built enough? Would they keep the Grievers out? Or would they fail? And were they even necessary? So far, not a single Griever had made its way into the Glade, at least that Thomas knew of. But the waiting was the worst part. Not knowing if or when something would happen, how it would happen, and where it would happen. The unknown terrified Thomas, and he couldn't help but picture an attack on the Homestead and what that might entail. He forced the images out of his mind as they made his stomach drop. 

"I'm scared." Thomas whispered back. 

Thomas' body tensed up when he spoke, and Newt could immediately sense it. He reached over to Thomas' shoulder, and quickly began to trace soothing circles along his arm. Thomas closed his eyes and sighed as Newt pulled him in even closer. He could feel the warmth of Newt's body as they touched, an immediate sense of security rushing through Thomas. He relaxed his muscles as Newt continued to calmly stroke his arm and shoulder. 

As Newt felt the tension leave Thomas, he leaned in so that their foreheads were touching every so gently. The hand that he had on Thomas' shoulder suddenly moved to his face, so that Newt could pull him in for a reassuring kiss. 

When the pulled apart, Thomas re-opened his eyes and stared back at Newt. Newt brushed the hair out of Thomas' face, just as Thomas had done to him just a few minutes prior. "I'm scared, too." He whispered.

"I'm worried the boards won't hold." Thomas admitted in a hushed voice. 

"It's the best we could do with the time and materials we had." Newt answered, trying to assure Thomas that they'd done everything they possibly could. 

"But what if the-" 

"There's nothing more we can do, besides hope for the best." Newt said, Thomas' words echoing through his mind as he looked back to that night Alby and Minho didn't come back from the maze. It had only been a few days, but it felt like an eternity ago. His words have stuck with Newt ever since: _I guess I can't be sure. But I can always hope, and that's the next best thing._

Thomas let out another nervous sigh. He knew they did their best, but what he didn't know is if their best was enough.

"You should sleep," Newt said under his breathe. He received a nod in response as Thomas pushed himself up so that he could turned and face the other way. Once he was laying down again, Newt snaked his arms around Thomas and pulled him in close, so that his stomach was against Thomas' back. He settled his head in the crook of Thomas' neck and whispered, "G'night, Tommy." 

Thomas only scooted closer in response. It was going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might notice that from here on out, the plot might differ a little more from both the book and film. My goal is to make the story as feasible as possible while also trying to mix it up every now and then to keep it different. Happy reading!!


	27. Taken

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS CHARACTERS EXPERIENCING MAJOR PANIC ATTACKS**

Thomas knew it had been a long time since Newt fell asleep next to him, but he didn't want to check his watch to see how long it'd been. He hadn't slept a wink, despite his many tries to settle down. Every time Thomas began to doze off, he swore heard a noise coming from outside and always sat up to check. Of course, nothing was ever there. There was still no sign of any Grievers outside, but Thomas had this awful feeling in his gut that they'd be here soon. Very soon. 

He laid down again, for at least the tenth time, and took a long breathe before closing his eyes. As Thomas felt himself starting to drift off again, he turned his body so that he was once again facing Newt. He nuzzled his head just underneath Newt's, and pulled the sheet back over himself. If Newt hadn't been there with him, he wouldn't have fallen asleep at all. But fortunately, Thomas was finally able to get some much needed rest. 

Thomas laid there, unmoving, for two or three hours. Even in sleep, his mind never ceased its racing. An eerie quiet filled the entire Homestead, most of the Gladers deep in sleep. Some laid there as Thomas had, awake, staring at the ceiling or the boarded up windows, waiting. For some, like Chuck, sleep never came. He sat crossed-legged next to a snoring Minho, arms folded and staring at nothing.

When Thomas woke again, he looked around the room to see everyone else still asleep. He let out a sigh and laid his head back down, but then something happened that made Thomas' skin crawl. A noise...rattling? Something outside. Something metal. And it was _close_. 

Thomas' entire body froze as his mouth hung agape. He stared at the boarded-up window for what felt like an eternity, listening intently. Thomas couldn't stop the gasp that escaped his mouth as he saw a large shadow move past one of the cracks between the boards. With his eyes still locked on the window, Thomas reached over to grab Newt's shoulder and shook it harshly. The blonde woke quickly and sat up to looked at Thomas confusedly. 

"Tommy, wha-" He started.

"Shhhh," Thomas hushed him a little too loudly and nodded his head towards the window. Newt rubbed the sleep from his eyes and followed Thomas' gaze. Thomas heard a sharp intake of breathe as Newt spotted the same shadow that Thomas had just moments ago. They shared a nervous gaze as Newt climbed over Thomas and carefully got out of the cot. 

Thomas watched as Newt slowly bent over the other Gladers in the room, silently waking them one at a time. Eventually, every boy in the room was sitting quietly on top of their blankets, staring at the same fortified window. As Thomas stared at the poorly-nailed wood, he felt his stomach drop again. _This will never hold,_ he thought to himself. The pounding in his heart was so loud that he was genuinely surprised that nobody else could hear it. His eyes scanned the window, stopping at every crack and every uncovered spot. 

In his mind, the glass turned to shards, and the wood boards to twigs. As the Griever crawled closer to their window, the Homestead appeared less and less sturdy. Seeing Grievers in the maze was one thing, but here, it was another. Thomas took a deep breathe as his mind began to acknowledge the fact that they had trapped themselves into the same building with nowhere to go. The Grievers had them cornered at every angle, boxed in like pigs waiting for slaughter.

Thomas imagined a Griever right outside the window, picturing how its massive body could easily crash through the wall. And then, he heard it. A cringe-worthy screech filled the air and rattled the walls of the Homestead. The shrill and ear-splitting sound sent Thomas into a fit of shaking. His hands and shoulders trembled uncontrollably as the horrible sound played over and over in his mind. He hadn't heard a scream like that since...

Suddenly, Thomas was no longer in the Homestead. He was with Minho, and they were in the maze. They were...running from something. But what? When Thomas looked over his shoulder, the sight instilled fear into his heart as he attempted to sprint even faster. Grievers. Not just one, but _four_. And they were all letting out that same horrible sound.

Thomas began to panic. He forgot he was in the Homestead and could only focus on watching himself run through the maze like his life depended on it, because it did. As he heaved his body forward, he could feel whatever energy he had left drain from his muscles. His arms and legs grew weak, and started to feel like jelly. A raging fire burned in Thomas' chest, his mind pleading him to stop running. His throat was so dry that it felt like every breathe caused his throat to crack and tear. Thomas just wanted it to end. 

The four beasts all screeched in unison, their terrifying cries being the only thing that kept Thomas on his feet. The sound seemed to travel through his body like a gust of wind, entering his back and leaving his front. He could feel the vibrations of their growls through the air. And with every passing second, they felt stronger and stronger. They were getting closer, and fast.

 _We're not gonna make it,_ his mind nearly screamed at him. _You're going to die here_. Thomas' breathes became more raged as he tried to keep himself from sobbing. He'd never been more scared in his entire life, at least from what he could remember. Thomas looked over and stole a glance at Minho as they ran, their strides perfectly in sync. 

Minho saw this and turned back, the same fear taking over his voice. "Just a little bit further!" He yelled above the shrill cries of the Grievers as they gained on them. "We're almost there, Thomas!"

 _We're not gonna make it,_ Thomas frantically thought.

"Come on, keep moving!" 

_**We're not gonna make it**_. 

Newt was just waking the final person in the room, Clint, when the loud screech had filled the space. Newt's head shot up towards the window, and he could feel his heart rate pick up as he saw the creature just outside the wall. The Griever had climbed up the wall and to the second floor without anyone hearing it. He silently motioned for everyone to stay quiet, which was hard to do with his shaky hands. Adrenaline pumped through his body at the sight of the creature. 

Sudden, shaky breathes from across the room caught Newt's attention, and his eyes grew wide with shock when he saw whose it was. "Tommy?" Newt gasped as he rushed across the room, careful not to step on anyone else along the way. By the time he'd reached the boy, Thomas was curled up on the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. His head was facing down slightly, but his eyes were glazed over with panic.

Newt sat on the cot in front of Thomas. He reached up grabbed to Thomas' hands, trying desperately to pry them down. "Tommy? Can you hear me?" 

Thomas' panicked breathes only seemed to grow more frantic as his entire body began to shake. All he could focus on was him and Minho dashing around corners and diving out of the way of the incoming Grievers. The cries and shrieks of the Griever outside the Homestead played in his mind and drowned out the sounds of Newt's concerned voice.

"Tommy, please!" Newt said, louder this time. He moved his hands to Thomas' shoulders and lowered his face so that he was eye-level with Thomas. "I need you to look at me!" 

Clint stood and quickly leaned over behind Newt to assess the situation. "He's hyperventilating, he needs to slow his breathing." 

"He won't listen to me." Newt said frantically, his eyes darting everywhere at once. He held his hands up in front of him, wanting to help, but unsure of what to do with them.

Clint grab Newt's shoulder and made the boy turn to look at him. "You can get through to him." 

Newt stared at him before taking a very shaky breathe and turning back towards Thomas. Through the darkness, he could see beads of sweat forming on Thomas' forehead and dripping down his face. He gingerly placed his hands on the same spot on Thomas' shoulders as he did previously. He leaned in so that their foreheads were touching, and he spoke just above a whisper. Newt was so scared that for the first time ever, he slipped and didn't use the nickname he'd given Thomas on day one. "Thomas." 

Thomas' head spun as he watched himself and Minho round the final corner in the maze, the Grievers right on their trail. He didn't turn to look back, but Thomas could feel the shrieks of the Grievers just behind him. They couldn't have been more than ten feet away. Fear and panic consumed his entire body as they neared the cliff. Minho said he had a plan, but as much as he tried Thomas couldn't convince himself that it would work. They were sprinting straight towards the cliff with four monstrous Grievers pursuing them. There was nowhere for them to go.

"Listen to me, Thomas." 

As Thomas ran closer to the cliff, he felt something. A pressure, or some kind of warmth, on his shoulders and forehead. It caught him off-guard, but it almost felt...familiar. And then came the voice. 

"Thomas. I need you to stay with me, here." 

Newt. He was sure it was Newt. 

"Can you hear me?" 

Thomas focused on nothing but Newt's voice. And as he did, the images playing in his head began to slowly fade away. The cliff, Minho, the Grievers all disappeared from Thomas' mind as he realized what was happening. As his sight faded back to darkness, Thomas became aware of how heavily he was breathing. And he was so uncomfortably warm. 

Newt could see the sudden change in Thomas' face. "That's it, Tommy," Newt said as he let out a relieved sigh that he didn't know he was holding. He reached up and placed a hand on Thomas' face, gently cupping his cheek. "That's it."

Thomas' eyes slowly came back into focus, and he could once again remember where he was. The Homestead. With Newt. And...the Grievers. His eyes immediately darted to the window, where one of the creatures was currently poking and prodding at the walls, searching for a weak spot. "...Newt." 

"You're okay, you're okay. Look at me." Newt said, his voice soft but still full of worry. It showed in his face, too. 

Thomas looked back at him with wide eyes, his breathes still ragged and dry. Slowly, he brought a shaky hand up and placed it on top of Newt's. "I'm s-sorry, I...I've seen Grievers since that night, but that scream...I hadn't heard that scream since I was in the maze that night w-with Minho and I-" 

Newt reached out to embrace Thomas when he went into another fit of heavy breathing. "You're fine. I'm right here." 

"It felt so real. I _thought_ it was real," Thomas whispered between breathes, clinging to Newt. "I'm so sorry." 

"Please don't apologize, Tommy." Newt said as he rubbed a hand through Thomas' dark hair. As he felt Thomas' body begin to relax in his arms, he was able to relax as well. 

"I-" Thomas started, but a sudden crash cut him off. Somewhere, in another room on the second floor, a Griever had managed to break through one of the boards. Shouts and screams echoed through the hallway and into their room, freezing everyone else in place. The sound of loud footsteps in the hallway seemed to grow louder and closer, heading directly towards their room. 

They stopped outside the door, and there were three painstaking seconds of silence before the door burst open with such force that it swung backwards and hit Frypan on the shoulder, hard. He yelped in pain and stumbled back, along with the rest of the Gladers in the room. Thomas and Newt turned to the single person standing in their doorway, both of their faces paling at the sight of who it was. 

Gally. 

"They're coming," He spat as he step into the room. "They're coming for _us_. Each and every one of us." 

Nobody said a word, too shocked at Gally's appearance to say anything. He'd been missing for days, and by the looks of it, he really _did_ run into the maze. His body was covered in untreated, bloody gashes. He had a large and concerning lesion on the side of his head, which looked newer than the others. Blood dripped down his face, making him look even more insane.

"Gally," Newt said, raising his arms in front of him cautiously as he stood, "What happened to you?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. " _They_ did this, Newt. Who else?! The Creators and their stupid...variables...they're gonna...take us...one by one...until _everyone is DEAD_." 

"Gally..." Newt said in surprise. There was a hint of sadness in his voice as well. 

"THEY'RE COMING!" Gally suddenly shouted again, flinging his body towards the barricaded window. He threw pieces of furniture out the way, sending them flying across the room and into the other Gladers. His hands were then on one of the few poorly-nailed boards, trying to pry it off the wall. 

Newt saw what he was doing, but he wasn't fast enough. He ran forwards towards Gally to stop him, but by the time he'd reached the builder, he already had a board off the wall. "Gally, DON'T!" He managed to shout just before the Builder raised the plank and brought it down hard onto Newt's head. Newt didn't even yell in pain as he fell to the floor, unconscious. A small pool of blood formed under his head. 

"NEWT!" Thomas screamed before standing to help him, but Clint was already on it. And then Thomas remembered Gally. He turned to see that he only had one more board to yank off the wall before the window would be left wide open and unprotected. Thomas lunged forward, wrapping his still trembling arms tightly around Gally's torso. "Gally, are you crazy?! STOP!" 

But Gally was stronger. Despite Thomas' attempts to stop him, Gally pulled off the last board with ease. He took a few heavy breathes before turning back towards Thomas and the others still in the room. "You can shut that shuck mouth of yours, Thomas. You don't get it. NONE OF YOU GET IT. None of you saw what I saw after the Changing...and you don't want to get out of here. You don't... _want_...to remember!" 

As if on cue the Griever that was just outside the window burst through the window, sending pieces of broken glass flying everywhere. The other Gladers yelled and cried out, trying to get out of the room as quickly as they could. Gally took one last glance at Thomas, giving him a look he'd never seen before. Very broken, but also...apologetic? 

Thomas didn't have any time to react before Gally threw himself to the Griever before it dragged him out the window and towards the open stone doors.


	28. Maps

Thomas froze, standing behind what was left of the window. He watched as the Grievers all began to retreat, the one in front dragging Gally behind it. The scene was hard to watch, and Thomas was about to turn away when some movement below caught his eye. He knew from the Runner's vest and jet black hair that it was Minho. And he was running straight for the maze...and Grievers. 

"Oh, shuck," Thomas breathed shakily as he turned and bolted out the door and down the stairs. As soon as he was outside, he called after the keeper desperately. "MINHO! MINHO!"

But it was too late, Minho had already rounded the corner and entered the maze just behind the pack of Grievers. Thomas stood there, staring at the now-empty entrance to the maze, still out of breathe. He didn't know what to do. "Dammit, Minho." Thomas muttered as he bent over and placed his hands on his knees. Not only was he exhausted from the night before, but he was also still in shock from everything that'd happened in the last ten minutes. Grievers. Gally. Minho...Newt.

 _Newt_. Thomas' mind began to race as he remembered how Gally had smacked him in the head with a wooden board. Thomas frantically turned to run inside and find him, but he was greeted by the sight of the blonde in the doorway of the Homestead. There Newt stood, a bloody rag pressed against his forehead, with his other free hand around Clint. The Med-jack walked next to him slowly, letting Newt lean on him for support. 

"Ugh, bloody hell that hurts." 

"Newt," Thomas said, panic in his voice. He briskly walked towards the two until he had his hands on the blonde's shoulders. "Are you okay?" 

Newt winced as he lifted his arm from Clint and attempted to stand up straight by himself. "Yeah," he groaned, "Just stings a bit."

Thomas couldn't stop staring at the rag that Newt was holding up to his forehead. What scared him was that he could barely tell that it was originally white, instead of a blood red color. "Well it looks like it hurts _more_ than just a bit. Are you sure you're okay?" 

Newt sighed as he lifted his hand up to stop Thomas' hand from reaching his injury. "Tommy, I'm fine." His gaze shifted past Thomas, and something he saw caused his eyes to grow wide with shock. "And I think we currently have far more serious problems besides my head." 

"What do you me-?" Thomas began to ask, but stopped himself. He followed Newt's gaze, which had shifted to something over his shoulder. His heart sank when his eyes landed on the map room, or what was left of it. Dark smoke leaked out from every window, pouring onto the grass below. It looked like a bomb had went off in there. Someone, or something, had burned the entire building to a crisp.

"Alby," Newt gasped as he remembered that the boy said he'd stay out there for the night. He suddenly grimaced and pulled his rag bag to look at it and groaned. He was still bleeding quite a bit. 

"Newt," Clint said, "Let me clean it. Stop the bleeding." 

"Fine." He said, slight annoyance in his voice. Newt felt the need to help in every way he could, and tending to his minor wound would be a waste of time. "But make it quick, got it?" 

"Let me go get my supplies." Clint said as he dashed off into the Homestead. 

Thomas, however, became lost in his head during their conversation. The maps were gone. The maps were gone and they may have been the key to getting out of the maze. And nobody had seen Alby since he left for the map room last night. His heart rate picking up, Thomas began to dash towards the map room, ignoring Newt's cries of protest. 

As Thomas neared the charred structure, Thomas had to cover his his nose and mouth with one of his arms. The smoke was too thick to breathe in for very long. With only slight hesitation, Thomas walked through the doorway and into the main room. It reeked of burnt paper and wood. Every last object was burnt to a crisp, making Thomas' stomach sink even deeper with every burnt trunk. The boy began to cough, hacking at the smoke that tried to fill his lungs. He'd only moved a few steps further into the building when his foot hit something, something that felt like a person. 

Bending down, Thomas cursed to himself at the sight. Alby was on the ground, seemingly unconscious, blood all over his head. "Alby!" Thomas shouted, his voice muffled by the arm covering his mouth. The boy didn't respond. 

"Shuck," Thomas said as he took his arm off his face to grab Alby's underarms with both hands. The smoke made everything ten times harder to do, but Thomas still managed to drag him across the floor, out the doorway, and onto the dry grass. Once far enough away from the structure, Thomas let his knees give out as he fell to the ground, choking on the smoke in the air. He took in slow, deep breathes as he eventually began to expel all the smoke from his lungs. He looked over at Alby, growing more nervous about his injuries now that they were outside. 

Quickly but carefully, Thomas reached under Alby again, lifting his limp body off the ground. He used all his strength to carry the leader across the Glade and to the Homestead, where Clint was just finishing up Newt's bandages when he arrived. 

Newt stood and ran over to them at the sight of Alby unconscious. "Is he okay?!"

"He's knocked out," Thomas said, breathing heavily, "I found him like this in there. And none of the maps survived." His voice grew more grave with the last statement. Thomas gently laid Alby back on the ground, leaning him against the tree stump that Newt was sitting on just moments before. Clint was immediately on top of him, examining the injuries to his head. 

Newt looked back at Alby one final time before sharing a confused look with Thomas. "I thought Alby was the one who did it." 

"Doesn't really matter now," Thomas said, devastation laced in his voice, "The maps are gone." 

Every single map was burned beyond legibility. If they really were the way to get out of the maze, the Gladers could all be trapped here forever now. But Thomas refused to accept it. There had to be another way. There just had to be. And if anyone knew what it would be, it was Teresa. 

Newt stared at him with a strange expression, one Thomas hadn't seen before. "Tommy..." 

"Teresa," Thomas said, "She might know what to do." And with those words, Thomas ran off towards the Slammers. He ran very quickly, panic consuming him at the thought of just losing their only chance of getting out of the maze alive. Just a minute later, he reached Teresa's cell and bent over in front of it. 

"Teresa, I-" Thomas stopped himself at the sight of the girl. "Were you _sleeping?_ "

Teresa looked up at him groggily and rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, I slept for a while, until some noises woke me up a few minutes ago. What happened?" 

Thomas took a deep breathe. Where to even start? "Grievers came, and took a boy named Gally. He said that they would come back every night, taking us one by one. He...he mentioned the Creators. Their variables. And then he was gone."

Teresa took a moment to let the information sink in. She didn't know anything about the Creators or their variables, other than the fact that she thought WICKED was good before entering the maze herself. This was all so confusing to her. "What about the smoke?" She asked. 

The boy stared at her with scared eyes. Before he even spoke, Teresa knew it couldn't be good. "The maps. Someone burned all the maps." Thomas said quietly. "If there was a code in them, it's gone now." 

"Oh my god," Teresa whispered under her breathe as the reality of the situation began to sink in. "So what now?"

Thomas shrugged. "Don't know. We could have been wrong, but I was so sure that if there was a message for us somewhere around here, it would be in those maps." 

"A code? What are you going on about?" A voice from behind Thomas said. He didn't have to turn to know it was Newt. But when he did, he saw that he wasn't alone. Standing next to Newt was Minho, out of breathe with sweat dripping down his face. 

"Minho? What the hell were you thinking?" Thomas asked, standing to completely face the two. 

"I followed them," Minho breathed out, "To see if they'd go into the Griever hole." 

Thomas' eyes lit up at Minho's words. With everything going wrong in the Glade, he could really use some possible good news at the moment. "And?" He asked impatiently. 

Minho cracked a smile and placed his hands on his hips. "Bingo." 

Thomas smiled back, but it quickly faded when he remembered about the maps. "So at least we know for sure that's where the Grievers go during the day, but I don't know how much of use it will be to us without the maps." 

Newt and Minho shared that same strange look that Newt had given Thomas earlier when he mentioned the maps were all gone. "What were you saying earlier, Tommy? About a code?" 

Thomas looked back and forth between the two, his eyebrows furrowing. "Is there something you're not telling me?" 

Newt gave Minho an approving nod before Minho turned to Thomas with a serious look. He looked over both his shoulders before speaking in a hushed voice. "We have the maps." 

Thomas' eyes grew wide with shock. He wasn't serious, was he? "But, the-" 

"I know," Minho said. "We hid the real maps a few days ago. Put dummies in their place. Newt told me about what Alby said when he first woke up, about protecting the maps, so we both thought it was best to hide them. They're all in the weapons cellar." 

Thomas let out the largest sigh of relief. It was as if he could feel his body relaxing as his tension disappeared. They had all the maps. And if they were what Thomas and Teresa thought they were, then they still had a chance of getting out of here. It wasn't until then he'd remembered Newt's question. "When I was still in the map room when Teresa first woke up, she told me that the maze was a code. We didn't really know what that meant at first, but then we figured that the maze was giving us a code, like a message." 

Teresa chimed in from behind the three, causing them all to spin towards the locked cell. "The maze changes, right? It could be spelling something out for us." 

"But we've already studied the maps for patterns. For _years_ we stared at those things," Minho said. "We haven't found anything like what you're talking about." 

Thomas paused. Minho was right. He'd seen the maps in person, and from day to day, there was no patterns within the sections that gave any hint of spelling out a message. Unless...they weren't comparing the right combination of maps. Thomas grew both nervous and excited as his realization sunk in. "You've compared the maps within each section to each other, right Minho?" 

Minho nodded, cross his arms. 

"But have you ever compared the different sections to each other?" Thomas asked. 

Minho went to nod, but stopped. His eyes glazed over as he seemed to be sifting through memories of studying the maps. His eyes grew wide with shock as he began to realize that nobody had ever thought to do that before. "No, we haven't." He muttered. 

"Then I think we need to have a look at those maps," Thomas said, allowing a hint of hope in his voice. He didn't want to get to excited over something that may not even work, but its the best lead they've had so far. And that's better than nothing. 

It took a lot of coaxing to convince Minho and Newt to let Teresa out of the Slammer, but after ten minutes, the four of them were walking towards the weapons cellar. And just as they had the day before, Thomas and Newt slowed to the same pace and walked together hand in hand. 

"You know," Newt started as he broke the silence between them, "You've really got to stop running off like that with no explanation." 

Thomas looked at him with a sheepish smile. He'd already run off twice and it wasn't even noon. "Sorry, yeah I guess you're right." 

"At least just lemme know what you're doing," Newt replied, his expression growing softer. 

Thomas waited a few moments before speaking again. "Why didn't you tell me about the maps?" 

Newt looked back at him with a more serious expression. His blonde hair whipped around as a sudden gust of wind blew towards them. "I guess for the same reason you didn't tell me what Teresa had said to you about the maze being a code. I thought it'd best be kept secret until it was something that needed to be known." 

Thomas nodded. His was about to apologize, but he could see that Newt wore the same apologetic look on his face. They both regretted not telling each other sooner, but they also knew that they'd done the right thing. But then, Thomas remembered about what else Teresa showed him that day in the forest. What she'd written on her arm.

Guilt boiled within Thomas as he debated on whether or not to tell Newt, and his stomach twisted when he decided not to say anything. He hated keeping things a secret, but Newt was right about what he said. Something like that is best kept hidden until it is absolutely needed to be known. And right now, the Gladers had bigger problems than worrying about who WICKED was and whether or not they were good.

Thomas decided to change the subject. "How's your hea-" 

"Wait, that's what he meant?! Are you kidding?!" Minho shouted, interrupting Thomas' question. The keeper turned back and faced Thomas with wide eyes that were filled with surprise and awe. "I thought you just got mixed up when you said Teresa talked to you while you were still in the map room. She can talk to you inside your head?!" 

Thomas' mouth fell agape as he glanced over towards Teresa, who mouth an apology at him from behind Minho. "Uh...yeah." 

"Can you do it now?" Minho asked, looking like a little kid seeing something new for the first time. His eyes darted between Teresa and Thomas, waiting for a response. 

Thomas was lost for words. "Um..." 

Before he could say anymore, Minho was already leaning over to Teresa and whispering something in her ear. Thomas and Newt both shared a wary look before Minho turned back to face them. He stared at Thomas, as if he was waiting for something incredible to happen. That's when Thoma felt Teresa inside his mind. Her voice was lighter than normal and had a laugh behind it as she spoke.

_He wants you to prove it. He said to call yourself a shuck-face._

Thomas couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips. "Really?" Thomas asked Teresa out loud. She nodded with a smile as Thomas sighed and faced Minho, "Fine. I'm a shuck-face." 

Newt and Teresa broke out into a laugh, while Minho stood there completely dumb-founded. His eyes had grown even wider, and his mouth hung open. When his eyes landed on Newt, he frowned. "Wait, _you_ knew about this?" 

"Of course I did," Newt said, a smile still plastered on his face. 

"Thomas, why didn't you tell _me_?" Minho asked, pretending to be very offended. Although, he failed to hide the goofy smile on his still-surprised face. 

Thomas looked him up and down one time, gesturing in Minho's general direction. "That's why." 

Minho rolled his eyes, but laughed. He, along with the other three, began to walked towards the weapons shed again. Although it only lasted for a brief moment, it was nice to forget about the maze, the maps, and the Grievers. 

All Thomas had worried about then was his friends. And now more then ever, he wanted nothing more than to get them out.


	29. Code

Once inside the shed, Thomas immediately got to work. He snatched all eight maps from the first day of the month and laid them out on a small wooden table. Minho had to bring a lantern over in order to see the pages more clearly. "Okay," he said, staring at Thomas expectantly. "Now what?" 

Thomas didn't answer, still studying the maps. Side by side, they told him nothing. And there was only one other way that he could really compare them. "I need wax paper, and a lot of it." 

The other three in the room gave Thomas a bewildered look. Out of all the things he could have asked for, they definitely weren't expecting _that_.

"Just do it, please," Thomas said, rolling his eyes. It took quite a bit of coaxing to get Frypan to hand over all of his wax paper, but after fifteen minutes, Minho and Newt returned with huge armfuls of paper. 

Teresa stood off to the side, studying Thomas' course of action, quickly catching on to what he was doing. _I think I know what you're trying to do. Brilliant."_

Thomas glanced up at her and nodded, trying to answer her back inside his head. _Thanks...can...you...help...me?_

When Teresa made no response, Thomas verbally called her over to help trace the maps onto the paper. Newt and Minho watched them for a few minutes before grabbing their own papers and maps. Thomas had no idea how much time had passed before they finished tracing the eight maps. It felt like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a half hour. The group of four were all silent as they worked diligently, both excited and nervous as they anticipated what came next. 

As Teresa let her hand glide across the paper as she drew the final line of her map, she let out a apprehensive sigh before looking up and folding her arms in front of her. "Okay. They're all ready," She said quietly. When none of the boys moved, Teresa collected the eight sheets and laid them out in front of her. She studied each for a moment, ensuring they were all properly traced and labeled. Afterwards, she placed the papers in a stack on the table. 

As the pile of papers grew taller by the second, Thomas could feel Newt reaching out for his hand. He grasped it tightly, anticipation building in his body. Thomas stole a quick glance at Newt, who kept his eyes locked on the stack of traced maps. He wore the most determined expression on his face, his frown growing more apparent as Teresa placed the last map on top. Thomas gave Newt's hand one last reassuring squeeze before Teresa lifted the maps and held them up in front of the light. 

Teresa's sudden gasp was the only sound that filled the room as the four stared at the layered maps with eyes that seemed to protrude from their faces. Sitting in front of them, clear as day, was a very prominent picture of the letter F. 

"Well shuck me," Minho whispered, his eyes not leaving the maps. He kept moving his hands, not knowing what to do with them. After three, long, hard years, they'd just discovered a message from the maze. A message that could get them all out for good. 

Newt had brought his hand to his mouth in disbelief. "It worked," He breathed out, "It actually bloody worked." He looked at Thomas with the most sincere expression he'd ever worn, trying to let the news sink in. Newt beamed. The smile that had grown on his face doubled in size as he laughed and shook his head. This was actually happening. It was real. 

Thomas let out the breathe he'd been holding, and at the sight of Newt's expression, wrapped him into a tight hug. Neither of them moved to break apart, both of them squeezing the other even tighter as time passed. 

When they finally looked back into each others' eyes, Newt smiled again and said, "We better get more wax paper." 

Minho spoke up before Thomas could. "You two should keep working. Get more help if you need it. Thomas and I should gather the rest of the runners, head out into the maze and look for any changes." 

Newt frowned at him, considering his offer, before nodding in agreement. "Alright. I know the doors won't close but I still want you all back at the normal time." 

"Actually," Thomas broke in, "I think we should stay there for the night. We won't be locked in, so it'll be safer." He looked at Newt with a firm glance as he spoke. 

Minho nodded with agreement. "Thomas is right. The only time we've been in the maze at night was when we were trapped. And we were a little too preoccupied with trying to stay alive to look around for anything. Maybe something happens at night that has something to do with this code." 

Newt let out an annoyed sigh, eyes moving between the two runners. They both looked at Newt with pleading, but commanding expressions. He knew that even if he said no, they would probably do it anyways. He sighed again, "Fine. Just _please_ be careful. Teresa and I will stay and work on the code, and I'll probably grab a few more Gladers we can trust to help out...if that's alright with you, Teresa." 

Teresa answered Newt with an assuring smile, excitement in her eyes. It finally felt like she was being accepted into the group.

Minho made his way towards the door. Newt followed suit, and flagged Thomas down before he could leave. Minho kept walking, heading off to gather the rest of the runners to give them the new set of orders. 

"What is it?" Thomas asked Newt, frowning. 

Newt looked at him with a questioning but concerned expression. "Will you be okay out there? If you come across a griever?" 

Thomas looked at him as his mouth fell slightly open. A few quick flashes crossed his mind of the events that occurred just a few hours earlier, in which Thomas lost himself in a panic after hearing the scream of a hunting Griever. It was all so unexpected, and Thomas actually had no idea as to whether it would happen again. "I'll be fine." 

Newt shook his head firmly as he saw Thomas' face pale slightly. "Don't you dare lie to me, Tommy." 

"I saw a Griever in the maze after that night and I was fine then. This morning I just...I guess I just felt trapped. Holed up with nowhere to go, and I panicked. I don't think it'll happen again, not while I'm in the maze." 

Newt stared at him for a long time before speaking. "Are you absolutely positive you'll be okay?" 

Thomas nodded, trying to put a reassuring grin on his face. Newt sighed as he reached up to grab each side of Thomas' face. He'd developed a habit of tracing small circles with his thumbs whenever he did so. Under his light grasp, Newt could feel Thomas relax under his touch and lean into his hands. "I should go," Thomas said softly, as he made no attempt to move. He'd let his eyes flutter shut.

Without answering, Newt leaned in and closed the distance between their lips. Thomas let out a content sigh as he moved his hands to sit gently on Newt's waist. Newt moved his body closer instinctively, wrapping both his arms around Thomas' neck. Thomas kissed him back with more force as he pulled them so close that there was no more space between them. 

Thomas didn't want to leave. He desperately longed to stay here with Newt. But he knew that if he didn't go out now, he'd risk the chances of getting him, along with everyone else in the Glade, safely out of the maze. 

Newt let out a small moan as his head shifted from one angle to another. And Thomas responded by holding him even tighter. They eventually pulled apart, out of breathe, and stared longingly into each others' eyes. Newt reached back up and stroked the ruffled hair out of Thomas' face. He looked at him gingerly and said, "I'll see you first thing tomorrow, yeah? Watch yourself out there." 

Thomas gave him a soft smile in return. "You know I will. Be safe." And with that, Thomas hesitantly turned and walked off in the same direction that Minho had left in. He needed to gear up and find the other runners before setting out on the overnight run. They'd have to bring more supplies than normal so that they'd be able to stay out in the maze even longer. 

Newt watched him as he briskly walked away, heading across the Glade. He could still feel his elevated heartbeat in his chest, and he felt a strange nervous feeling in his stomach. It began to sink in that Newt wouldn't see Thomas, Minho and the other runners for an entire day. As he thought about it, fear took over his body once again. 

It was going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter today, but many more are to come! I've developed the habit of updating on Thursday mornings and Saturday nights, so I'll probably stick to that for the rest of this story. Things are really starting to pick up, and it'll be over before we know it! Thanks for reading ;)


	30. Glue (Newt's POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Putting notes at the beginning to warn yall about the roller-coaster of emotions this chapter brings, you've been warned. This is probably the longest chapter so far.

As the runners left the Glade, Newt decided to make his way towards the Homestead. He needed at least two or three more people to help with the codes if they wanted to finish them before the runners returned. Newt passed the large and open stone doors, catching a glimpse of Thomas and Minho enter the maze. 

Chuck stood at the edge of the grass, watching them leave. Newt could hear Thomas shout something back to Chuck as he ran off, something about keeping his promise and getting them all out. Chuck gave him a thumbs up in return, wearing a confident smile on his face. As he turned back, Chuck immediately spotted Newt and ran over to catch up with him. Newt welcomed him with a smile as he shoved both his hands in his pockets. 

"How're you doing, Chuckie?" Newt asked as they walked side by side. 

"Better now. But I'm tired though, I didn't sleep much last night," Chuck said in a sluggish voice. There were clear bags under his eyes, and his feet seemed to drag on the ground with every step. 

"You're not alone, I don't think anyone did." Newt said as he glance up to the Homestead. There was a large hole in one of the second floor rooms, splinters of wood and glass poking out in every direction. A few of the builders were already hastily trying to patch it up with the remaining wooden boards and nails. 

Chuck looked over in the same direction. "Yeah, I heard about Gally. Do you really think he actually meant what he said?"

Newt sighed. He hated it when Chuck asked klunk like that. No matter how many times it happened, Newt never knew whether it was better to tell Chuck the truth, or to lie to him so he won't be scared. Chuck was the youngest in the Glade by at least one or two years, and he was sure everyone felt at least a little protective over him. Even Gally had in the past. 

As much as Newt wanted to tell him the truth, Newt actually didn't know whether Gally was right or not. The only way to know for sure was to wait out in the Homestead overnight for the Grievers to come back. Newt shuddered at the thought of just sitting around like that, but it's all they could do. After some thought, he decided to tell Chuck at least that much. It was no use telling the boy that everything was going to be okay, when it obviously wasn't last night. 

"I can't say for sure, we'll just have to wait and see," Newt finally answered. "All I do know is that right now, our best bet is just focusing on getting out of here. The runners will be out there all night, so they'll probably find something we can use." _They have to,_ Newt added inside his head. 

Chuck gave him an appreciative smile, along with a small laugh. "With the runners out all night, I hope you don't get too lonely without your Thomas around." 

Newt stopped in his tracks and stared at the curly-haired boy as he continued to bounce towards the Homestead. He suddenly seemed to have much more of a skip to his step. Newt felt his eyes grow wide and his cheeks grow warm. "...You know?" 

This time, Chuck let out a bellowing laugh that almost sent him to the ground. He turned to Newt and shook his head jokingly, "Newt, the entire _Glade_ knows about you two."

Newt stood there, dumbfounded, for another few seconds before snapping out of it. By then, Chuck was gone and Newt was left standing alone in the center of the Glade. He suddenly picked up his pace and started walking again, heading straight for the Homestead. He still needed a few people to help out with the codes, and he had just the idea of who he'd ask for help. 

Once inside the Homestead, Newt scanned the main room for one person in particular. When he spotted the boy, he called his name and motioned for him to come over to where Newt was standing.

Frypan eagerly joined him, knowing by the look on Newt's face he was about to tell him something big. Once they were far enough away from the others, Newt told him about the maps, the runners staying overnight in the maze, the codes, everything. And since Newt, Teresa, and two of Newt's closer friends from the gardens were going to be gone all day, someone else needed to be in charge.

Frypan's eyes lit up while Newt spoke, although he wasn't sure whether it was from the codes or the fact that Newt chose him to lead the Glade while he was working on the maps. Either way, Frypans infectious smile made its way to Newt's face as well.

"Well, you better get working," Frypan said as he gave Newt a strong pat on the shoulder before turning to rouse the Gladers who were just sitting around. Newt was surprised at how cooperative everyone was with everything that had happened last night. He was sure that their collective fear of the Grievers coming back drove them to work even harder on the Homestead. 

Newt eventually found the two Track-hoes he was looking for outside, walking towards the Homestead. They carried a few small baskets of vegetables in their arms, but not as many as normal. With the sun gone, it was getting more and more difficult to keep the plants alive with each passing day. Pretty soon, they'd run out of food from the garden. But Newt didn't want to think about that right now. 

"Zart!" Newt called from the Homestead as he walked out to join the two.

Zart nodded his head as a greeting, Pete trailing behind him. Zart spoke up first. "What's up, Newt?" 

Newt folded his arms and walked towards them so that they were close enough to hear his whisper. "Why don't you two drop those off at the Homestead and join me over at the weapons cellar?"

Zart and Pete shared a confused and suspicious look, but did as Newt said regardless. The three of them had spent a lot of time in the gardens together, and they all shared a fairly trusting friendship. Newt knew that he wouldn't have any trouble assigning both the Track-hoes to map duty. 

Once the trio had stopped at the Homestead and were out of hearing distance of the other Gladers, Pete spoke up. "Hey Newt, what's all this about?" 

Newt took a quick glance of his surroundings as he walked, ensuring they were alone. Then, he turned back to the concerned duo and answered. "Tommy found a code in our maps, and I think we can use it to help get us out of the maze. I need your help deciphering it." 

Newt stopped walking when he realized the other two were no longer following. His expression turned to a frown at the bewildered looks on the two boys' faces. 

"You're serious?" Zart whispered, disbelief ringing in his voice. He put one hand on his hip and used the other to cover his surprised mouth. 

Newt gave him and understanding smirk, and nodded. "Yeah." 

The shock that overtook Zart and Pete's faces was almost comical, but also genuine. Zart had been here since the beginning, just like Newt had. Pete showed up about a year later, but he still spent almost two years with the other Gladers. Without their memories, they'd literally spent what felt like their entire lives locked up in the Glade. To have the chance of leaving felt unreal.

"We gotta see this," Pete said, nudging Zart's arm and pulling him from his trance. Newt gestured for them to follow, which they did so very eagerly. None of them spoke again until they reached the cellar, the anticipation too great in their minds to form proper sentences. 

Once inside, Newt had Teresa show Pete and Zart what they'd done to find the letter F from day one of the month, and what they had to do to find the rest. The two boys caught on very quickly, no longer trying to hide their interest in the maps. Together, the group of four breezed through the maps, decoding letter after letter. 

Just after Frypan stopped by to drop of a lunch of tomato soup and some sandwiches for later, they'd formed what they thought were two complete words from days one through eight. Zart and Pete sat at the other side of the room, stuffing their faces with as much soup as they could fit on their spoons. Newt and Teresa, however, stood staring at the first eight letters of the code. 

"Could you, uh...let Tommy know what we've got so far?" Newt asked Teresa hesitantly. 

She nodded with a small smile before her eyes became glazed over and her face grew more focused. 

_Tom, we've got the first two words._

Teresa sat patiently, waiting for a response, but knowing that she probably wouldn't get one. She knew Thomas was trying to practice their telepathy, but he had yet to actually succeed with it. But just as Teresa was about to go back to work, she heard something. A faint murmur, like a radio with the volume turned down to the lowest setting. Then, she heard it again, and this time it was full blast. 

_Can you hear me?_

Teresa let out a small cheer and clapped her hands, overjoyed that Thomas could finally talk back. When Newt raised his eyebrows at her, she whispered, "He answered me, he did it!" 

_Yes, Tom! Very clearly the second time. I have the words here, they're FLOAT and then CAT._

_Float cat, huh? Doesn't really sound like a code. But keep going, you guys are doing great._

_Have you found anything out there yet?_

Thomas hesitated. _No. The walls didn't even move today. It's like the Creators are telling us that this really is the end or something. Wow, my head hurts..._

A soft smile grew on Teresa's face. _I'll leave you alone no-_

_Wait!_

_What?_

_How's Newt's head? He wouldn't let me see it earlier, being the selfless person he always is._

Teresa smiled at the laugh in Thomas' voice. As she looked over to study Newt, a perplexed look crossed the boy's face. He waited, though, knowing that Teresa was probably still talking to Thomas. There was no way for him to tell.

_Looks okay. It's not bleeding through the bandages anymore, and it doesn't seem to be bothering him._

_You sure? He took a hard hit..._

Teresa could feel Thomas' concern as his voice echoed through her mind. She felt bad, not wanting to worry Thomas while he was out in the maze. He had enough to focus on already. _No need to worry. I'll keep an eye on him for you._

_Thanks, Teresa. I'll see you soon._

And with that, Teresa could feel Thomas' presence leave her mind. She turned to Newt, who didn't even try to hide the anxious look on his face as he waited to hear what Thomas said. 

"He's really worried about you," Teresa said, turning so that she could sit against the nearby table and face Newt. "He asked about your head." 

Newt stared at her for a moment before letting out a small chuckle. He tried his hardest to stop the blush he could feel forming on his cheeks. "Besides that, did he tell you anything useful?" 

"He said they hadn't found anything yet, and that the walls haven't moved from before." Teresa said. 

Newt nodded, slightly disappointed. He was really hoping they'd find something to help them out. But, Thomas, Minho and the other runners still had the rest of the night to search. That was plenty of time to find something.

Once the soup was gone, the four began to work again, this time even more diligently than the last. With every letter they found, they became more excited as the pieces came together to form coherent words. At first, Newt was afraid the letters were going to be random. 

Mountains of used wax paper and the original maps began to build on the floor, eventually covering the entire room. They remained untouched, though. Nobody even noticed they were there, the four were all too absorbed in their work. Hours passed, and the group took another short break to eat dinner before returning to the maps once again.

By the end, Newt didn't know how much farther he could go. His hands and arms were so tired that he felt like he was losing control of them. He'd also been standing almost the entire day, due to the lack of chairs in the cellar. His ankles were sore he could feel his eyes growing droopy. With five completed words, it was time to call it quits. 

"There's only a few days worth of maps left here. Probably one more word," Newt said, rubbing both his eyes with his hands. "But I've had enough for tonight. I'm bloody exhausted." 

The other three let out a relieved sigh, all too ready to go to bed. They quickly neatened the room as best they could, and quickly made their way to the Homestead. It felt darker than normal, but it was still before midnight. Despite the lack of any Grievers in sight, the group constantly surveyed the area around themselves to make sure they were safe. 

It felt like ten years had passed before they finally reached the Homestead. Newt lightly tapped on the door, knowing that it was probably barricaded. He heard some soft shuffling inside, and after a moment the door opened to reveal Frypan's face. 

"I was beginning to wonder when you'd get back," He said, tiredness both in his voice and on his face. "Come in, hurry up. We gotta barricade this door again." 

The four quickly made their way inside, allowing Frypan and one of the builders to shove some heavy pieces of wood and furniture in front of the door. Once they were finished, they brushed off their hands and turned back to the group. 

"Anything happen while we were gone?" Newt asked quietly. 

Frypan shook his head. "Nope. Not a thing. We fixed up the damaged room pretty well, I think it'll hold as long as only one Griever goes at it. Any more than that, it might budge..."

"Good work, I'm sure it'll hold," Newt lied. He was actually terrified that the Grievers would try to get inside at the exact same spot, knowing that it was weaker. "Now, you lot get off to bed."

The bunch of Gladers silently dissipated, people walking off to different rooms. Teresa volunteered to stay with Alby. He'd woken up just a few hours before they came back, but his head still hurt too much to stand up. Soon, only Newt and Zart remained in the main room. They both decided it was a good idea if someone stayed up and took watch. Zart went first, and woke Newt up after three hours or so. 

The two switched positions, and Newt made himself comfortable leaning against one of the wooden pillars in the room. He actually got a few hours worth of rest, which was very rewarding after working on the maps all day. He didn't know how Zart stayed up for another few hours after they'd finished. 

As Newt sat there, his mind began to drift. It helped him stay more awake and alert. But, he focused on one thing in particular: The runners. Especially Thomas and Minho. He wondered where they were at that very moment. Were they still running? Or were they taking turns resting keeping watch like he and Zart were? Or were they...

Newt shook his head, wiping the negative thoughts that began to flow in his mind. He knew better than to think like that. This wasn't even the first time that Thomas and Minho had spent the night in the maze. They were fine then, so they'll be fine now. Or at least, that's what Newt told himself. But wherever the two were, Newt just hoped that they were finding something, anything, that they can use to get out of the maze. 

Besides, if something was wrong, Thomas would tell Teresa, and she'd tell them. Upon this realization, Newt found it much easier to relax. The runners really were okay out there, and they'd be back in just a few hours.

"Ugh," Newt heard a groan from beside him, "How did you fall asleep on this floor?"

Newt laughed and shrugged. "I was tired. How are you not?" 

"Dunno. A lot on my mind, I guess." Zart said, giving up on sleeping and sitting upright next to Newt. They both leaned against the same wooden pillar, staring at the barricaded door in front of them. 

"Like what?" Newt asked, still looking forwards. He pulled in his legs and wrapped his arms around his knees. 

Zart sighed. The only sounds that filled the room were the creaks of the Homestead and flutter of the wind. He didn't speak for a very long time. "We've come a long way, haven't we?" 

Newt turned to stare at Zart, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. "Three years is a long time." 

"It's just, look at where we are now, and where we first started. We had _nothing_. We built new lives for ourselves, a home, a family. I mean we lost some good friends along the way, but we wouldn't be here without them." Zart spoke so quietly Newt had to strain his ears in order to hear him. But what he said touched him. Zart was right.

But something Zart said kept playing in Newt's mind. _We lost some good friends along the way_. As the phrase bounced back and forth in his head, Newt let his eyes move down and land on his bad leg. The memories from that dreaded day flooded his mind, and Newt felt an unpleasant shiver move down his spine as they did. Before he could think, Newt slipped. "I was lost."

Zart didn't know about what really happened in the maze that day. Only Alby knew the truth. But Zart was good friends with Newt from the beginning, and he knew that Newt had gone through some very hard times during the first year. He did everything he could to help Newt, and always kept a watchful eye over him. Zart looked back at Newt with an encouraging smile as he reached over to give him a pat on the arm. "But you found your way back." 

Newt looked down for a moment before he gave Zart an appreciative smile. 

"I'm proud of you, Newt. I really am, and I'm sure every other Glader here is too. You're the one who has held us together for all these years, and I know you will still be our glue whatever happens after we get outta here," Zart said before his tone grew more serious. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?" Newt asked, frowning at Zart's change in voice.

"Promise me that you won't lose yourself along the way," Zart said quietly. "You care so much about everyone else, that sometimes you forget to take care of yourself." 

Newt found himself speechless, his mouth hanging open while his mind searched for the right words to say. All he could get out was a quick "I promise" with a few nods of acknowledgement.

"Good that," Zart sighed contently as he leaned back against the wood behind him and closed his eyes again. 

The two had only sat there for a few moments before something snapped outside the Homestead. Newt's head shot up to where the noise originated. His stomach dropped when he could hear something moving over the dry grass outside. The crunches of something big looming outside the building grew louder and louder until it was right outside the door. 

Newt stood, cautious not to make the slightest noise. He carefully moved his feet across the floor, his breathe hitching every time he brought his foot down too loudly. By the time Newt was almost to the boarded-up window nearest to the door, all the sounds outside stopped. The only sound Newt could hear was his heart, beating faster with each slow second that ticked by. 

A sudden shadow shot across the window, sending Newt back a step. He held his breathe as he watched it slow to a stop, just outside the window. Slowly, as if one wrong move would alarm the beast, Newt turned his head to wake Zart. But once he did so, he saw that Zart was already awake and standing. He was just making his way over to grab a weapon from a table when it happened. 

A crash. A loud boom that send glass shards and wood planks flying. When Newt turned back to the window, he had to use all his strength not to yell for help, not wanting to reveal his location. A Griever had punctured their fortifications on the window. One board was completely off and on the floor, while another was swinging back and forth on the window, attached by only one remaining nail. The board creaked rhythmically as it swung.

"Newt," Zart whispered, "Get over he-" 

Another loud bang filled the room as the metal arm of the monster shot into the room at an impressive speed. Newt turned back as soon as he saw it, and began to run deeper into the Homestead. But, he was too late. 

The Griever's claw locked itself tightly around Newt's bad leg. The boy let out a scream of pain as he was violently pulled to the floor and dragged across the room towards the window. The two could hear the sounds of other Gladers getting up at the sound of Newt's yell, searching for the source of the noise. 

Zart, who'd been watching the entire scene play out, threw himself forward with all his power. He lunged his body towards the Griever fearlessly, connecting with the monster's metal arm. With a white-knuckle grip, he yanked the arm back repeatedly, trying to draw it back into the room. Newt desperately squirmed, breathing heavily, trying to break free of the Griever's mighty grasp. 

Zart punched and kicked the arm over and over, refusing to let his exhaustion win over. He wasn't letting anyone die tonight. Not when they were so close to freedom from this place. 

Miraculously, the Griever's arm began to twitch as if it was malfunctioning. Its grip on Newt loosened just enough so that he could slip out. The blonde scrambled to his feet, but as he did, the arm suddenly came back to life. It swung back and forth viciously, the claw snapping like the jaws of a crocodile. That's when it got a hold of Zart's arm. 

"ZART!" Newt shouted as he reached up and grabbed Zart's free hand. He gripped him as hard as he could, trying to pull him back. But Newt's leg had taken some damage, and it kept giving out every time he tried to put his weight on it. Newt began to panic, realizing what was about to happen. He cried out as the pain in his leg grew stronger, tears beginning to fill his eyes and blur his vision. "I can't h-hold on!" 

As Newt pulled even harder, he could hear the footsteps of Gladers rushing down the hall from upstairs. But they weren't going to make it. They were too far away. 

"N-newt," Zart groaned as he tried to pull himself away from the Griever. He looked straight at Newt, a single tear falling down his own face. Pain filled his eyes, but despite everything, there was still a glimmer of hope swimming in them. "Get t-them out, Newt. K-keep them together." 

"Zart...ZART!" Newt shouted as he pulled even harder on the keeper's hand. In that moment the other Gladers burst into the room through the door, assessing the situation before running towards Newt to help. But just as the first few Gladers reached the Griever, Zart's hand slipped from Newt's grasp, pulling Newt to the ground with a loud thud. 

Newt scrambled up and frantically looked up at the window with the others to see that the Griever had pulled Zart straight through it. Streaks of blood dripped down the broken glass. Across the Glade, Newt cried out as he saw the Grievers disappear around the stone doors, dragging Zart into the maze. 

Newt fell to his knees, sobbing as he tried to stop his shaky breathes. His eyes, his hands, and his leg all burned like they were on fire. And his heart felt so, so broken. 

"No... _oh god please no..._ " 

Zart was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that hurt. It really hurt to write that. I'm so sorry.
> 
> But one of my minor goals of this story was to include, in addition to Newt/Thomas scenes, scenes that were mentioned in the book that we didn't get to see firsthand. This was one of them.


	31. Sting

"I can't believe this," Minho panted as he slowed to a stop. He impatiently placed both hands on his hips, scanning up and down the walls for any signs of changes. "The walls didn't even move from yesterday. Klunk like this has never happened before."

Thomas bent over, leaning his hands on his knees in attempt to catch his breathe. He knew they'd been running for hours on end, but they'd have no clue what time it was if it wasn't for the small digital watches strapped to their wrists. "I think the Creators know we are deciphering the codes, so they stopped moving the walls." 

"But we don't know how to use the shuck codes. They're useless unless we find something out here we can use them for." Minho retorted harshly. Thomas knew it was his exhaustion talking and not him. 

Thomas sighed. Minho was right. If they couldn't find a way to use the codes from the maps, they were pointless. "Let's stay out here a little longer and keep searching. There has to be something out here we missed." 

Minho flung his hands in the air, shaking his head. "Might as well. But you should let the others know so they don't flip out when we don't show up in an hour." 

"Okay," Thomas said as he and Minho took off running again. They ran away from the Glade, even deeper into the outer sections. 

_Teresa, are you there?_ Thomas asked mentally. 

_Yes,_ Teresa answered, but something was different about her voice. It cracked, making it sound like she was in pain. 

_What's wrong, are you okay?_

_The Grievers came an hour ago. It all happened so fast..._

Thomas' stomach dropped at her words, and Minho gave him a questioning look as he saw the color drain from the boy's face. Thomas had to force his next words through, even though he had a feeling he already knew the answer. _What happened?_

_They took Zart, Tom..._

Thomas slowed to a stop, his mouth open in shock and sadness. Thomas had only spoken to Zart a handful of times, but whenever he did, the keeper made sure that Thomas felt welcomed. In fact, Zart was one of the first people, along with Chuck and Newt, that Thomas came to trust. A wave of grief passed through his body as he looked over towards Minho, who'd stopped running as well. Thomas couldn't imagine how some of the others would feel. They'd known Zart for three _years_ instead of a week or two.

Minho frowned nervously, sensing something was wrong. "What is it?" He asked, slight hesitation in his voice. 

Thomas' eyes fell to the ground, unable to look Minho in the eye any longer. "They got Zart. I'm so sorry, Minho." 

Minho sucked in a harsh breathe as his face reddened and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He clenched his fists, breathing heavily, before he turned and kicked the nearest wall with all his strength. "DAMMIT! DAMMIT, DAMMIT, _DAMMIT_!" 

Thomas felt a pang of guilt as he watched Minho. He knew what the boy was thinking. Here they were, running in circles outside the Glade, wasting time, not finding anything useful. With every second the spend out here, it was another second closer to the Grievers' return to the other Gladers. 

"We're not wasting any more time. We're going," Minho almost shouted between his agitated breathes, "NOW!" Minho didn't even give Thomas a chance to reply before he dashed off into the maze, running even faster than they were before. 

Thomas took off after him, tears welling in his own eyes. His mind flickered back to all the accusations the other Gladers had first put on him when he entered the Glade. That this was all his fault somehow. And now, people were paying the ultimate price for whatever he'd done. It hurt to think about. It really hurt. As he ran in silence, Thomas tried to get through to Teresa one last time. 

_You still there?"_

_Yeah._

_We're staying out here a little longer. We'll be back before nightfall. I have to go._

_Okay, watch your backs. They could be out there now._

Teresa's last words faded out of Thomas' mind as he sprinted to catch up with Minho. For their remaining time, the duo ran faster than they ever had before. They pushed on even when their throats became dry and cracked, and when they ran out of food and water. They just _ran_.

When the pair returned to the maze later that day, most of the Gladers were hurriedly working on finishing up the repairs to the Homestead. Some sat, eating the last bits of their small portions of food, no words being exchanged. An eerie silence filled the space instead. 

As Thomas and Minho approached the Homestead, they saw the new damages clearly for the first time. On the first floor, there used to be a large hole right next to the front door. It was all boarded up now, fortifications still being made on the area. Suddenly, the front door opened, revealing Newt. He looked more exhausted than he ever had before, and it didn't suit him well.

Upon seeing the two runners, Newt limped up to them. He was slower than normal, his leg still hurting from where the Griever grabbed it. His eyes were red and puffy, and his had huge bags under them that made it look like he hadn't slept in weeks. Without a word, he launched himself into Thomas' arms and buried his face into his neck. Thomas stood there silently as he felt hot tears drip onto his skin. He wrapped his arms around Newt, feeling his body shake against him.

From where he stood, Newt peered up from Thomas' shoulder and gave Minho a mournful glance. He stood behind Thomas with an equally devastated look on his face. Minho reached up and placed a gentle hand on Newt's shoulder, tears forming in his eyes as well. Except, Minho was also frowning. 

Some time passed before Newt pulled himself away and wiped his eyes. He placed one hand on the bridge of his nose, trying to calm his pounding headache. "Please tell me you found something out there." 

Thomas opened his mouth to answer, but Minho beat him to it. He couldn't hold in his anger about Zart and the maze any longer. "There's nothing out there. We ran the section multiple times, and we found _nothing_. So much for those shuck codes." Minho turned on his heels and stormed off in the other direction.

Newt sniffed and rubbed his nose with a sigh. "He gets that way sometimes." 

Thomas turned to him with a sad smile. Slowly, he reached up and traced the side of Newt's face with his hand. "You okay, Newt?" 

Newt leaned into the Thomas' touch, another tear rolling down his cheek. "It's my fault he's gone. I couldn't hold on." 

When Newt's voice cracked, Thomas drew him into another embrace, holding him even tighter than before. "You did everything you could. Teresa told me what happened while we were heading back here." 

Newt's voice was muffled due to Thomas' shirt, but it was still clear enough to understand. "You know what the last thing he said to me was?"

"What?" Thomas asked nervously, bringing a hand up through Newt's messy hair.

"He told me to keep all of us together. But...but I let him go. No matter h-how hard to tried I couldn't keep him with us." Newt exclaimed into Thomas' shoulder, trying his hardest not to start crying again. Thomas rubbed a soothing hand on his back as he felt tears begin to prick his own eyes. 

"There was nothing else anyone could have done. Well not anyone in the Glade, anyway. But you can't give up now. You and I both know that Zart wouldn't want that," Thomas said, giving Newt one final squeeze before pulling away to look into his eyes. There was still sadness there, but also acceptance. Thomas relaxed knowing that Newt understood that it wasn't _his_ fault, but the Creator's. Everything always led back them. Thomas shuddered at the thought of himself being involved with them somehow, after everything he's seen here.

When silence followed, Thomas changed the subject. "Teresa told me you guys finished working on the codes." 

Newt nodded. "We finished them this morning. It took longer, since there were only three of us..." 

Thomas gave him a sad look before grabbing his hand and walking towards the map room. "Well let's go take a look." 

When Thomas and Newt arrived, Teresa was still there. She came over a greeted Thomas with a quick hug, telling him how sorry she was about Zart. As she pulled out the words they deciphered, she shared a sympathetic look with Newt. 

"Well, here they are." Teresa said as she laid out the six words in front of Thomas. He leaned in eagerly, his eyes scanning the page as quickly as they could. But when he'd read all the words, his heart sank in disappointment. They made no sense. 

**FLOAT**  
**CATCH**  
**BLEED**  
**DEATH**  
**STIFF**  
**PUSH**

"Shuck..." Thomas breathed out, staring at the words intently. He crossed his arms and stared at Newt, who wore the same expression as him. "I was hoping for something a little more straightforward." 

"Yeah," Newt said, "Without any context, these are pretty useless."

Thomas strained his mind, trying to think of a way they could use these words, but nothing came. The only thing he did was scare himself after re-reading the third and fourth words over and over. Those couldn't mean anything but trouble. 

"I just think we're missing something. Just one piece of the puzzle that lets us understand what this code means. If only we had just a few more clues..." Thomas trailed off as his eyes widened with realization. 

Newt and Teresa both gave him a concerned look as they saw the color disappear from his face. His eyes glazed over, indicating that Thomas was deep in thought about something, but the two had no idea what it might be about. 

In this moment, Thomas knew what he had to do. They needed more clues, and Thomas knew right where to get some. He needed to get stung by a Griever, so he could go through the Changing and hopefully remember what the code means. A cold shiver moved through Thomas' body at the realization, but he had no choice. He knew that he had to be the one to do it. 

"Tommy, are you alright?" Newt asked in a concerned voice as he reached up and felt Thomas' forehead with his wrist. When he felt that Thomas wasn't feverish, he pulled his arm back down and placed it on his waist, waiting for an explanation. 

Thomas stammered a response. "Uh yeah, yeah. I'm fine, I'm just...tired. From running the maze all night, I guess." 

Newt glanced at his watch. "Well it _is_ getting late. We should all head back before they barricade the front door." 

The trio left the cellar and quickly made their way to the Homestead, where the last few Gladers were rushing inside. But once they reached the door, Thomas could hear some kind of commotion in the front room. He pushed his way through the other Gladers, who had frozen in place at all edges of the room. 

"What's _wrong_ with you?!"

Thomas knew that was Minho. 

"I did what I had to do!" 

And that was...Alby?

Newt pushed in behind Thomas, eyes wide at the scene before him. Minho spotted them, anger burning in his eyes like a wildfire. He gestured to Alby as he spoke to them. "This shank _was_ the one who burnt all the shuck maps!" 

Alby didn't listen to what he was saying. He only looked at Newt, who was staring back with the most hurt expression at Minho's words. "Alby..." He said quietly, "It was you?" 

Alby sighed, already knowing he'd lose this battle. "Newt..."

"Why?!" Newt cut him off angrily. 

"It's like you said, Newt," Alby said, remembering what Newt had said to him when the sun first disappeared. "Our place is with each other. But not out _there_!" Alby pointed towards the open stone doors. "Our place is together, but our place is here! You don't know what it's like. _You don't know what I've seen._ " 

Newt gave Alby a sad look. He was starting to sound just like Gally, right before the Grievers dragged him away that first night. Any hope Newt still had for Alby sank at the realization that he'd never return to his old self. His next words burned, but he knew that they had to be said. With the heaviest of hearts, Newt looked Alby straight in the eyes, his vision blurring as tears began to form around them. "The Alby I knew would never keep us locked up here. You're not him." 

Alby's mouth opened in shock, his breathes becoming shakier by the second. He looked around at the other Gladers, who all stood with the same expression as Newt. Devastated, terrified, upset. He brought trembling hands to both sides of his head, trying to push the images of the outside world away. "Newt," He said as he took a step closer to his friend, "please." 

Newt looked at him with a stone-cold face, his heart breaking for the second time that day. "When the time comes, we're leaving this place with or without you." 

With those impossible words, Newt swiftly walked away, leaving Alby behind. Without a word from anyone, the Gladers slowly dispersed and finished out their duties for the day. The final barricades were put in place, and the boys all laid down for the night. The silence that filled the building was awful. It felt almost painful, and nobody dared break it. 

Alby returned to his med room, locking the door. And as the final lights of the remaining torches flickered out, the Gladers prepared themselves for another long night.

Newt, still upset over what happened with Alby, settled in closely next to Thomas. They laid next to each other on the floor, with Chuck sleeping in the cot that they had during the first night. Thomas suggested Chuck take it after seeing how terrified he looked after Alby's outburst. On the other side of the pair, Minho sprawled out on his stomach. His head was turned to one side, his snore filling the room. 

Thomas couldn't sleep, but not because of the Grievers. He was so nervous about his plan. It was so incredibly dangerous, something that could end up getting him killed. But he knew it had to be done. Thomas had this feeling inside him, almost like an instinct, that this was what he was supposed to do. Letting out a apprehensive sigh, Thomas reached up and gently pushed Newt's dangling blonde hair away from his face. Newt had fallen asleep after about an hour. Thomas could tell by the way his breathing slowed and became more even. 

Newt's sudden movement caused Thomas' hand to freeze in his hair. He was afraid he'd woken Newt up. But Thomas was proven wrong when Newt unconsciously reached out and pulled their bodies closer together. Thomas smiled and tried to stifle a laugh as Newt curled up so his head was against his chest. Having Newt with him really helped him relax, and Thomas was able to sleep for a few hours before waking up to the guttural roars of Grievers. 

As soon as he heard the first metallic clicks outside, Thomas stood and quietly maneuvered himself to the back of the room, towards the door. He eyed the shadows outside the window carefully, watching to see what direction the Grievers were heading in. When he could no longer see them, Thomas knew they'd gone to the other side of the Homestead. 

Thomas shuffled in that direction, determined not to wake anyone up. But as soon as he crossed the doorway, he heard a loud bang, followed by a monstrous scream. 

At the sound, Thomas could feel his heart beating faster in his chest. Sweat formed on his forehead, and he clenched his hands tightly to stop them from shaking. Flashes from his night in the maze with Minho tried to make their way into his mind. "Stop it," Thomas muttered to himself, trying to keep from falling into panic like he did two nights ago. "Calm down, you need to do this." 

More bangs could be heard, each one sending an anxious wave through Thomas. Fear engulfed Thomas' mind as he pictured a Griever bursting into the room and grabbing him like one had done to Gally previous. He felt guilty about thinking so selfishly, but Thomas didn't want to die. Not that way. 

Taking a deep breathe, Thomas tried to calm his nerves by focusing on something other than the Grievers. His friends. He pictured Newt. Chuck, Minho, Teresa, Alby...Zart...even Gally. He needed to do this for _them_. And there was no turning back now. 

As the pounding grew louder, Thomas knew a Griever was almost inside. Thomas reached the suspect room and soundlessly extended his hand towards the doorknob. This was it. 

But just as Thomas had his hand gripped around the doorknob, a voice from behind stopped him. 

"Tommy, what are you doing?!" Newt whispered loudly as he stepped out of the room, with Minho and Chuck trailing close behind him. 

Thomas started to answer, but a crash that felt like an explosion cut him off. The entire building shook as shrieks filled the hallway. The door Thomas had his hand on suddenly flew open, panicked Gladers all flooding out as quickly as possible. 

"THEY'VE GOT JACKSON!" Someone shouted at the top of their lungs as they ran by. Thomas watched them, quickly realizing that if the Grievers had someone, then they were already on their way back to the maze. But he couldn't wait another night. He had to do this _now_. 

"I'm sorry," Thomas looked at Newt quickly before dashing off down the hallway. He bolted down the stairs and out in front of the Homestead, ignoring the confused cries of the Gladers behind him. He had to slow down to kick the barricades out of the way as he plummeted out of the building. Thomas could hear a rumble of footsteps of people following him, but he didn't look back. He just kept running. 

About forty feet away, Thomas spotted the pack of Grievers, one of them dragging a small and unconscious boy behind them. Thomas pushed himself harder than he ever had before, desperate to catch up with the speeding metallic creatures.

It took all of Thomas' might just to gain half the distance. Thomas grunted and heaved, his body drained from an entire day's worth of sprinting, as he began to lose the feeling in his legs. It was quickly replaced by a sharp pain shooting up his body, begging him to stop. But Thomas ignored it. 

Just as the Grievers were about to round the corner into the maze, Thomas closed the remaining distance between them. The runner took one final deep breathe, his hands shaking as he forced the image of his friends into his mind. He pounced onto the back of the nearest Griever, his hands flailing to grab something. One of his hands locked onto a fleshy appendage, and Thomas held on so tight that it felt like his hand was breaking. 

The Griever thrash about violently, trying to shake the boy off. And when it failed to succeed, it did just what Thomas had planned for it to do. The Griever panicked and squealed as it released dozens of thin needles in all directions. Multiple jabbed Thomas right in the stomach. He cried out in pain, but loosened his grip on the creature and rolled to the ground. 

Thomas landed on his back, his body already paralyzing under the influence of the Griever's venom. He stared at the dark sky, desperately hoping that he'd remember what they needed to do to be able to use the code. As much as he hated to admit it, this could be their last chance at getting out. They just needed one more nudge in the right direction. Thomas closed his eyes as his body began to twitch uncontrollably. 

It didn't hurt at first, but now it began to sting up and down Thomas' arms and back. The pain seeped down into his legs, causing him to groan. He didn't even know anyone had approached him until he felt two warm hands on either side of his face. 

"TOMMY?!" Newt shouted. Thomas tried to make out his face, but his vision was blurring. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

"S'okay," Thomas muttered as he looked back up at the darkened grey sky. He could feel darkness creeping up at the edges of his vision. Thomas' speech began to slur as he slipped into unconsciousness. "I did...it on...purpose." 

With those last words, Thomas' head fell back and his eyes shut. Newt reached underneath his body and propped him up, shouting Thomas' name over and over again. His eyes grew wide with fear as he looked down and spotted three metal needles protruding from the boy's stomach. Newt pulled them out quickly, tossing them into the grass. 

"Tommy?" Newt asked, his eyes darting everywhere at once. He entered a furious rage as he realized what Thomas had been planning in secret. Thomas' body continued to twitch, and he continued to let out groans of pain as the venom spread throughout his body. "Minho, serum, NOW!" 

Newt failed to form complete sentences, but Minho knew what he meant. The keeper's faced drained of color at the sight of Thomas, limp in Newt's arms. As he turned and sprinted back towards the Homestead, Newt lifted Thomas up and began to carry him back in the same direction. Chuck caught up with him and helped when Newt's leg began to give out. 

Newt let our a shaky breathe as he could already see the veins on Thomas' arms begin to turn a sickly green color. His body began to twitch uncontrollably, making it more difficult to carry him. Clint and Jeff immediately took over once they reached the Homestead, Minho right behind them with the serum. They carefully rushed Thomas' unconscious body inside, taking him to the nearest med room.

Newt took a moment to catch his breathe outside, sharp pains shooting up his bad leg. He entered the Homestead only a few minutes later, scanning the building for where they took Thomas. But a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the Homestead answered his question. 

The Changing had begun.


	32. Pain (Newt's POV)

His stomach sinking even deeper, Newt followed the sound of Thomas' screams until he reached a locked door. Minho stood just outside of it, his hands covering his face. When he heard Newt approach, he looked up at him with eyes that were screaming ten different emotions at once. Newt was sure that he looked the same.

"Is he okay?" Newt asked shakily after a pause. He didn't even try to hid the worried expression that took over his face.

Minho sighed, nodding. "As soon as we got him in there, Jeff took the serum and kicked everyone else but Clint and himself out. He said they just needed some time to treat him and make sure the serum was working before they let us i-"

Another loud shriek echoed from the closed room, cutting off Minho's words. The two jumped, startled at the noise as they quickly turned their heads towards the door.

"I can't believe he did that," Minho breathed out, his eyes still studying the closed door behind him.

Newt didn't respond. Time seemed to freeze as the sound of Thomas' cries of pain seemed to grow louder and louder inside his head. He'd never heard anyone scream like that before. Not even when the other Gladers like Ben, Gally, and Alby were stung. Horrible images began to fill Newt's mind of what was happening inside that room. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the vision of seeing Thomas lying limp on the table, the color draining from his face.

Minho's voice eventually brought him back to reality. "Woah, Newt, you okay?"

Newt looked up at him, realizing that at some point he had huddled up against the wall with his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. "...I," Newt whispered, his voice and body shaking, "Thomas..."

Minho gave him a sad look and quickly embraced his friend in attempt to comfort him. "Newt, he-"

Just like before, another sudden bout of shrieks filled the hallway. Minho could feel Newt flinch at the sound, his body growing more tense. He waited until it grew quiet before he tried speaking again. "He's gonna be fine, Newt. He's gonna make it."

Newt could sense the fear hidden in Minho's voice. Both of them knew that nobody had ever died from a Griever sting before, since they had the serum. But with everything in the Glade changing so drastically, neither of them knew what to expect anymore. They just hoped the serum would still do its job like it always had before.

Minho stayed with Newt outside Thomas' door for a long time, and Newt was glad. He didn't know if he would've been able to wait so long by himself. Another hour passed before Minho realized it was time to go. He quickly gathered the other runners throughout the Homestead and led them outside, prepping to re-enter the maze. Before he left, Minho promised Newt he'd come straight back to him when he returned.

Not five minutes after the runners left, Clint and Jeff opened the door and stepped out. They looked awful.

"He's stable," Jeff said as he rubbed his eyes. "The serum seems to be working just fine. He's unconscious, but he'll still be pretty loud for the most of it."

Newt gave them both an appreciative nod. "Thanks, guys." 

The two Med-jacks left, probably to try and get some sleep after that long ordeal. Without another word, Newt made his way into the room and quickly pulled up a chair next to Thomas' bed. His heart sank at the sight of Thomas up close. He looked even worse than he did before.

Newt took a deep, shaky breathe and grabbed some supplies from the table nearby. With a wet rag in hand, he lightly rubbed Thomas' forehead, trying not to look at the damage the venom had already done to his body. But no matter how bad it got, he swore to never leave Thomas' side.

Soon, almost twelve hours passed since the sting. 

Poor Thomas laid on his bed in the med room, covered with a thin sheet. His forehead was completely drenched with sweat, along with his shirt. The way his eyes were shut made it look like he was sleeping, but the rest of his body, however, appeared very much awake. Thomas was completely unresponsive to anyone that talked to him, but his body moved and thrashed about on the bed as the venom did its work. 

Thomas' screams of pain became more ragged as he began to lose voice. If they didn't sound scary before, they definitely did now. Between his shrieks, Thomas panted heavily through gritted teeth, wearing a painful expression on his face. 

Along Thomas' body, the veins that were once a light green color were now a dark black. They were easily visible and seemed to protrude through his skin, making him look as terrifying as Ben, Gally, and Alby looked when they were stung. Without the serum that the Creators provided from the start, Thomas would've died hours ago. At least they did one thing right. 

For hours on end, all Thomas did was thrash and scream.

When Minho finally returned, he walked in to find Newt sitting right next to the bed. The blonde didn't turn his head when he entered, keeping his eyes locked on Thomas' face. He sat to Thomas' left, holding one of his hands with both of his own. He had yet to leave Thomas' side.

"Hey, Min," Newt said quietly, eyes still focusing on Thomas. "Find anything?"

"...No."

Minho sat down in a chair on the other side of the bed, trying not to look at Thomas as he did. He winced when Thomas let out another ear-piercing scream. Newt flinched as well, giving Thomas a sad look. As Minho studied Newt from across the bed, he grew worried with how long Newt had been sitting there alone. All day, probably.

"I still can't believe he did that, buggin' idiot," Newt muttered as he rubbed a hand over his face with a sigh. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. With an amused glance towards Minho, he added, "That was the dumbest thing I've ever seen anyone do, and that includes all the klunk you've done, Min." 

Minho let out a tired but relieved laugh, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, Newt. Getting yourself stung? Yeah, pretty dumb. But it's why he did it is what matters." 

"I know," Newt sighed in defeat, "Still dumb though. When he wakes up, I'm gonna kill him." 

"If you could wait until _after_ he tells us what the code means, that be great," Minho said sarcastically, still smiling. 

Newt smiled back and shook his head. Minho could always get a smile out of him. Even during times like this. Before he could speak again, another shriek from Thomas filled the room. Newt squeezed his hand as he felt Thomas' body tense up. 

And then it fell quiet again, the only sound in the room being Thomas' labored breathing. Minho spoke first, his tone more serious this time. "What are we gonna do with him? He'll be like this for _days_."

Another voice from behind answered before Newt had the chance to. "Well, you could put him in the Slammer."

The pair whipped their heads around to see Teresa standing in the doorway, a tray of hot food in her hands. She took a few steps forward and placed it down on the table at the end of Thomas' bed. 

"You're joking, right?" Minho asked, an eyebrow raised in surprise. 

"No," Teresa answered with a serious expression, "Actually, I'm not. I was just fine out there, the Grievers couldn't get in. It would be safer for the others too, since his screams wouldn't let the Grievers know where he is in the Homestead."

Newt stared at Thomas for a long time. He had placed one hand on the boy's shoulder, trying to keep him from moving so much. As he watched Thomas pant and groan in pain, he knew that Teresa was right. Thomas couldn't stay here with everyone else, he'd just draw the Grievers in with his yelling. 

"Okay," Newt said, turning his head back to Teresa. 

Minho gave him the most surprised look Newt had ever seen. "Okay?!" Minho asked. "You're actually gonna leave the shank in there?" 

"That's right," Newt said with confidence, "And I'm staying there with him." 

Minho opened his mouth for a retort, but couldn't think of anything. The Slammer wasn't that bad of an idea. And if they didn't put Thomas there, what other place would be safe from the Grievers? With the map room burnt up and the map cellar being too unstable, the only real option was the Slammer. "Fine. But I'm leaving to get food before you two come up with any more crazy ideas." 

As Minho walked out of the room, Newt nodded his head at Teresa. "Thanks, Teresa. I don't know if we would've thought of that." 

Teresa returned a soft smile as she picked up the tray and brought it over to Newt. She handed it to him and then walked to take a seat where Minho had been sitting. "I knew you would want to stay by his side, so I brought your dinner up here." 

Newt looked down at the tray. A bowl of warm soup, a piece of bread, and a glass of water. Newt quickly grabbed the bread bit a large piece out of it. It wasn't until the smell of the food hit his nose that he realized how hungry he was. "Wow, thanks again," Newt said with a full mouth, "I guess I kind of forgot to eat today..." He trailed off as he took a look at Thomas, who'd quieted down for a few minutes. 

Teresa's eyes followed Newt's gaze. She looked back and forth between the two, her expression softening. "He talks about you a lot, you know." 

Newt looked up at Teresa, one hand on Thomas' and the other holding the piece of bread. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for Teresa to explain further. 

"Whenever we talk telepathically, you _always_ seem to come up. It's kind of cute, actually," Teresa said, giving Newt a smile and a friendly wink. "He really likes you." 

Newt didn't know what to say, but he felt a warmth forming in his chest. It was pleasant. Looking back at Thomas, Newt reached his hand up to the side of Thomas' head, smiling at him. Thomas' breathing grew quieter at the touch, and his body seemed to relax if only for a moment. "I really like him too." 

Teresa's smile grew, and she leaned in to speak again. But before she could, Thomas' body suddenly began to thrash again under the sheets. They could see the pain spread in the runner's face as he cried out. 

Newt placed his food aside and used both hands to grab Thomas' body, holding him down. "Shh, it's alright," he said, know Thomas wouldn't be able to hear him. If anything, it was for Newt to make _himself_ feel better.

"It's getting late," Teresa said, hinting that they should move Thomas to the Slammer before it got to be any later. "I can go take some supplies over to the Slammer, if you want." 

Newt nodded without looking over at her. "That'd be great, actually. I'll bring Tommy over there soon."

Newt waited until Thomas had settled down for a few minutes before trying to move him to the Slammer. It was hard enough to get Thomas onto the hand-made stretcher and carry him out of the Homestead. With Frypan's help, the two carried Thomas outside and towards the nearest cell. Teresa climbed out of it and waved as they approached, signaling that she'd just finished moving all the supplies into it. 

Very carefully, Newt and Frypan laid the stretcher down as Thomas continued to flinch and thrash on top of it. Newt was surprised they even got it over here without Thomas rolling off of it. He gave Frypan a pat on the shoulder, nodding his head back towards the Homestead. "Thanks for the help, Fry. Now get on back before it gets any later." 

"You got it, Newt," Frypan said with a kind smile as he turned and walked in the opposite direction. 

"You too, Teresa," Newt said as he turned towards the girl. She was leaning against the open cell door, twirling the keys in her hand. 

Teresa raised her eyebrows in amusement, almost laughing. "Well you better get in, then!" 

"Oh, right." Newt said as he quickly reached underneath Thomas and pulled him up. Teresa grabbed his feet, and together they pulled him into the cell and laid him onto some blankets Teresa had brought. Once Newt hopped in beside Thomas, Teresa shut the metal cell doors and locked it with the keys. 

"I'll leave these here with you," Teresa said as she slipped the keys between the holes in the door. "Just in case you need'm." 

"Thank you," Newt said as he picked them up off the ground and slipped them into his back pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"See you," Teresa said, her voice soft. She stood and quickly made her way in the same direction Frypan had left. 

Then, they were alone. And despite all the noises Thomas was making, Newt could still feel the silence of the rest of the Glade around them, and he didn't like the feeling. Groans of pain filled the cell as Newt grabbed a rag and began to wipe down Thomas' forehead as he had earlier. Thomas screamed and thrashed, but the blankets and pillow beneath him prevented him from injuring himself on the hard floor. 

Some time passed, but Newt had no idea how much and didn't feel like checking. He'd grown pretty tired, feeling ready to go to sleep. To get in a better position, he scooted backwards so that he was leaning against one of the corners of the cell, facing the locked door. Newt gently pulled Thomas towards him so that his head was resting in his lap. This way, Newt could keep his hands on both of Thomas' shoulders to hold him down if need be. And...because this was about as close as they could get. 

Newt stayed awake for awhile, despite his utter exhaustion. He knew they were safe in the Slammer, but at the same time, he didn't like the idea of going to sleep and leaving Thomas unsupervised. After an hour passed, Newt had to repeatedly remind himself that the serum was working fine, and that this was all a normal part of the Changing. He still felt a little uneasy afterwards, but it calmed him down quite a bit. 

Slowly, as if not to disturb Thomas, Newt leaned his head over and gave Thomas a quick kiss on the forehead. At the same time, he ran his hand through Thomas' hair. "Night, Tommy."

Just as he drifted off, Newt's last thoughts were of the codes. If Thomas didn't remember how to use them, Newt had no idea what they'd do next. Every single inch of the maze had been scoured multiple times, but no escape was ever found. That left the codes, and Thomas' memories. This really was their last chance at getting out of here.

With a sigh, Newt knew he was just stressing himself out. Thomas would remember what they needed...right?

Newt's face still wore a frown as he fell into a light sleep. As he dozed, he unconsciously brought one hand up onto Thomas' head and the other just on top of his shoulder. His body was so desperate for sleep that he didn't even wake up when Thomas screamed and shrieked in pain until a few hours later. 

Every time he woke, Newt would slightly lean towards the cell door, trying to make out any sights or sounds of Grievers. No matter how impossible it was, Newt was sure that every Glader had a slight glimmer of hope that the creatures wouldn't come back this time. But Newt knew better than to believe that. 

The Creators would never let them off so easy.


	33. Memories

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE DEATH CURE**

The Changing went on for three days. 

In the morning, Newt would carry Thomas back to the Homestead so Clint and Jeff could check on him. And as the day came to a close, they carried Thomas back to the Slammer where Newt would sleep next to him all night. 

Now, it was the morning of the third day, and three more Gladers had been taken by the Grievers: Alex the first night, Pete the second night, and...Clint earlier this morning. It was now that everyone began to realize that no matter how hard they fought or how well they hid, the Grievers would always find them. An uneasy feeling swept over the entire Glade, making everyone feel a little more on edge. They knew if they didn't get out of the maze soon, they would all die.

The runners had continued to dig through the maze, some of them even staying there overnight for a second and third time. And still, after all those hours, they found nothing. The runners, along with the rest of the Gladers, anxiously waited for Thomas to wake up with a way to get out. It was starting to sink in that Thomas might actually be their last chance.

Newt could tell that the Changing was almost complete, with the way Thomas' movements changed. He'd grown much quieter within the last few hours, and barely moved at all. Newt stayed in the Slammer with Thomas, thinking it'd be easier to just stay here instead of trying to carry Thomas back to the Homestead. After another hour passed, Newt called Chuck over to the cell, asking him to find Minho and Teresa and send them over. He knew that Thomas was about to wake up, since his breathing completely back to normal.

As Newt waited for the others return to the cell, he couldn't help but notice the growing nervousness in his stomach. He didn't really think about how Thomas would act when he woke up until this moment. When Gally and Alby woke up from the Changing, they were completely different people. And they never went back to being their older selves. If that happened to Thomas, Newt didn't know what he'd do...especially if Thomas no longer wished to leave the Glade like Alby had.

Newt knew he shouldn't be thinking like that, but he couldn't stop himself. There was no guarantee that Thomas would remember anything useful, let alone retain his desire to get them out of the maze. But Newt didn't think it would be the same with Thomas, looking back at what everyone had accused him of. If any of the accusations made were actually true, and Thomas really _was_ a part of this whole...experiment, then it's possible he could recall something they don't know. 

Just as the Minho and Teresa approached, Newt could feel Thomas' body relaxing in his lap. He looked up at the pair with a tired but excited expression, so relieved that this was over and they'd all made it through this. "He's gonna wake up any minute now, I think."

Newt handed Teresa the keys through the door, and she slipped them into the lock and flipped it. Minho grabbed the door and swung it open, sitting on the ground so that his legs were dangling into the cell. "Well, at least the shank's not as ugly as he looked three days ago," Minho said with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Newt rolled his eyes, but Minho was right. The color had returned to Thomas' face, and his veins were no longer visible anywhere on his body. He wasn't sweating anymore, and his breathes were much slower and deeper. It truly looked like he could be sleeping now, other than the occasional twitch.

The three sat in silence, waiting anxiously for something to happen. As nothing changed, they began to grow more impatient. They'd already waited three days for the Changing to finish, wasn't that long enough? Newt was ready to give up just when he heard a gasp beneath him. 

"Ugh..." Thomas moaned as he squeezed his eyes shut and brought his hands up to rub them. Newt could feel Thomas' body tense up as he regained consciousness. He couldn't imagine the kind of headache Thomas probably had at the moment. 

Newt waited until Thomas was completely awake to gently reached under his shoulder and help lift him up into a sitting position. Once he was leaning against the wall, Newt gave his shoulder a quick rub before speaking gently, "How're you feeling, Tommy?" 

As the last bits of tiredness began to drift away, Thomas' eyes darted around the room in a panic until they landed on Newt next to him. He didn't remember where he was or what had happened at first, until it all came crashing down on him at the sight of Newt. Flashes of when he got stung, the Changing, and new memories all flooded Thomas' mind at once. Sifting through the foreign images in his mind, Thomas' stomach dropped as he began to recall what he'd seen during the Changing. It wasn't good. It wasn't good at all.

As Thomas stared, Newt could see one emotion after another cross the boy's face as he registered his surroundings. His expression changed from one of confusion to one of realization, then from one of shock to one of sadness. Newt knew by the change in Thomas' eyes that something wasn't right. "What is it?" He asked. 

Thomas' eyes filled with tears, and his mouth fell open. His head began to shake back and forth as if he was trying to deny something. Both of his hands seemed to clench and unclench as Thomas' eyes grew even wider in response to the images in his mind. The others remained silent, waiting for Thomas to speak. And when he did, his voice was no louder than a choked whisper, "I was there." 

"Where?" Minho asked patiently from the door. Teresa had joined him and sat along the edge of the cell as well. 

Thomas' eyes glazed over, looking at nothing. "WICKED. I was there, Teresa was there, we worked with the Creators..."

Teresa gasped as she brought her hand to her mouth. This couldn't be right, it just couldn't be. How could she and Thomas be involved with something so...wrong? "What do you mean?" 

Thomas looked sharply at Teresa as he answered, louder this time. "We _designed_ this place. Built it. Put everyone else in it. We were there the whole time, just on the other side...we...we w-watched you." 

Thomas' body began to shake, tears now streaming down his face uncontrollably. He sucked in a few harsh breathes, making no attempt to slow his breathing. He unconsciously brought his arms inwards, curling into himself but keeping his eyes on Newt. "We...I was t-there when...we s-saw you...a-and..."

Newt shot a very nervous glance towards Minho and Teresa, who gave him the same look in return. Thomas' words were barely audible as he tried to speak between his shaky breathes. Newt leaned in closer to Thomas and cupped both his hands around the boy's tear-streaked face. "Slow down, Tommy. Take a deep breathe for me." 

Without hesitation, Thomas quickly yanked himself away from Newt and scooted away. Newt dropped his hands in shock, but remained quiet as he saw the terrified looked on Thomas' face. Thomas stared at him for a few moments before doing as he was asked. Eventually he spoke again, his voice very serious. "I saw y-you. I was t-there and I _watched you_."

"Tommy..." Newt said, cringing at the dark tone in Thomas' voice. He'd never seen him like this before. "You're scaring me." 

With those words, more tears built up in Thomas' eyes and fell down his face. He closed his eyes and let his head fall to the ground, unable to look at Newt directly any longer. "Teresa a-and I were there t-that day..."

"What...?" Newt started, but Thomas cut him off.

"W-we saw you jump." Thomas whispered, looking back up at Newt with the most upset and devastated eyes. His next words came out with a cry, and were barely comprehensible. "I w-watched...you c-climb the wall...a-and you...j-jumped-" 

Thomas then broke off, sobbing, his body shaking too much for him to say anything else. Newt, however, didn't even blink. His body had frozen in its place, unable to move or think or act. Time slowed down and the world faded away as he realized what Thomas was saying. Thomas was there. Thomas watched him from the other side. _Thomas saw him try to take his own life_. Newt could feel his heart beating faster and faster, until it felt like it was pounding in his ears. He subconsciously reached down and placed his hand on top of his bad leg, right where the scar was from that day. 

Newt didn't even hear Minho calling his name until he'd said it at least six or seven times. "NEWT!" 

Newt looked up at Minho and Teresa. Teresa sat silently, hands covering her mouth, not even trying to wipe away the steady stream of tears that ran down her face. Minho stared at Newt with a horrified face, with his eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. "What's he talking about, Newt?" Minho asked nervously. But before Newt could answer, Minho's eyes followed the path Newt's hand had taken, his glance landing on Newt's leg. 

Minho's eyes shot back and forth between Newt's face and his leg, his mind making the connections with what Thomas just said. He remembered Newt's accident, and he knew how much damage it'd done to his leg. Newt told him it was from a Griever. But...the way Thomas said it actually happened...it couldn't be true...it just couldn't be, right? 

_Please, please don't let it be real,_ he thought to himself, _PLEASE_. As he opened his mouth to speak, Minho could physically feel his heart ripping into two, "Newt...your leg...you didn't...did you?"

Newt slowly turned his head to Minho, tears now spilling from his eyes as well. He just couldn't find the words. "I..."

Minho took in a horrified gasp when Newt gave him a sad but truthful nod. Shaking his head frantically as he brought his hand to cover his open mouth, Minho stuttered, "Oh my god... _oh my god_." 

Now all four of them were crying. "Why didn't you t-tell me?" Minho asked desperately, holding out his hands in front of him.

"I d-didn't tell _anyone_..." Newt said, a sad pain in his voice. "I'm s-sorry, I thought it'd b-be best if-"

"Best for who, Newt?" Minho asked loudly, the same sadness laced in his voice. When he received no response he asked again, this time with more aggression. "BEST FOR WHO?!"

Teresa suddenly brought a hand up and placed it on Minho's shoulders after hearing the rage develop in his voice. Minho looked down, not realizing until now that he'd started to stand up. He slowly sank back down, his voice returning to a whisper. "What happened?"

Newt opened his mouth, and when nothing came out, Thomas spoke instead. He'd calmed down enough to talk again, and he kept his eyes on Newt the entire time he spoke. "When I first s-saw you climbing, I tried to stop y-you. I remember begging s-someone, don't know who, to m-make you stop...b-but they wouldn't listen and-" 

"Tommy..." Newt said through his tears, reaching out. 

"I'm sorry, N-newt...I'm so...s-sorry..." Thomas cried into his hands. "It's all my fault."

"Tommy, please...don't," Newt cried, placing a shaky hand on Thomas' arm. 

Thomas gave Newt a dumbfounded look. "What do y-you mean, don't? _I'm_ the one who help put y-you all here. _I'm_ the reason...t-that you..."

Thomas' cries caused Newt to do the same. Slowly, Newt reach under Thomas' chin and moved his head up so they were at eye-level. "Listen to me," Newt whispered, "Please." 

Thomas paused before nodding, more tears silently falling from his eyes. His body still shook, but his breathing had slowed slightly. 

"Don't y-you remember what I told you the first time Teresa spoke in your head?" Newt asked, desperate to get through to Thomas. 

Thomas shook his head and frowned. 

"I don't care," Newt answered, stuttering less often as he regained his composure. "It doesn't m-matter who you were before this. I don't care if you were a part of it. That Thomas is gone. What _does_ matter is what we do right now. You're here now. And whether you'd like to think so or not, you're one of us. A Glader. The only Thomas anyone here cares about is the one who has helped us get this far."

For a moment, it looked like Thomas had a small smile on his face, but it quickly dissolved away with more pain. "Newt..." He choked, "People _died_ here...they died b-because of me... _you_ almost di-"

"No," Newt said firmly, shaking his head. "That's where you're wrong." 

"How?" Thomas asked. 

"It's the Creators fault, it's...WICKED's fault," Newt replied, remembering what Thomas had said earlier. "If you were really on their side, then you wouldn't be here, now would you?" 

Thomas didn't answer. 

"I think he's right, Tom," Teresa finally spoke. She wiped away a few tears from her face as she continued, her voice still shaky, "We're not there...we're here. So what matters now is getting everyone out of here..."

_...and making up for what we've done,_ Thomas thought to himself. He looked at her with a defeated face and sighed, knowing that what everyone was saying was true. Thomas couldn't just waste more time moping about a past he barely remembers, when he could be working to fix all of their futures instead. But even so, Thomas knew that the guilt that now resided in his heart would never fully go away. Especially with Newt. 

Thomas reached up and placed a hand on the back of Newt's head, just behind his ear. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breathes to calm down before looking Newt in the eye once again. He tried his best to give Newt a soft smile, while whispering one final apology. "I'm sorry." 

Newt gave him a weak smile back, so many emotions running through his body at once. He had no idea what to think or what to say, with the countless images flying through his brain at once. There was pain there, but there was also hope. Not a lot, but enough. Newt didn't speak, but instead placed a hand over Thomas' and gave it a quick squeeze. 

As Thomas pulled his hand down, he stared at the ground for an entire minute. To everyone's relief, the defeated look on Thomas' face seemed to fade away in front of them. It was replaced by an inquisitive look that Thomas had worn so many times before. He was digging, searching his newly-discovered memories for the answer that he originally stung himself for. 

He sniffed a few more times, wiping the final tears away from his eyes. As the fog in his mind began to clear, Thomas found it to be much easier to concentrate. Then, the memory he was searching for came to him like reaching for a stone at the bottom of a stream. It was blurry and hard to see at first, but once he got his hands around it, it was easy to pull out. Thomas' eyes lit up at the sight in his mind, remembering what he'd seen during the Changing. He knew what they needed to do to get out of the maze. 

"I remember," Thomas gasped, still a little surprised. He looked up at Minho, who hadn't spoken a word since finding out the truth about Newt's leg. "I know how to get out of the maze." 

Minho's eyes, along with Teresa's and Newt's grew wide with shock. It worked. The Changing actually worked and now they had a _real_ chance at getting out of the maze, after all this time...

"What is it?" Minho asked, his mouth hanging slightly open. 

Thomas looked at all three of them before answering. He had a strong feeling that they weren't going to like the answer at all, but it was the only way. "There's a place in here that nobody has ever seen before...I can't believe we didn't think of it sooner."

"Impossible," Minho said, frowning. "We've scoured every inch of this shuck place!" 

"Not everywhere," Thomas said, "Trust me, you've _never_ looked here." 

"Where, Tom?" Teresa asked, leaning forward in anticipation. 

Thomas raised his eyebrows and took a deep breathe. "We've gotta go through the Griever hole."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the emotions in this chapter please forgive me *tosses flowers at you*


	34. Volunteer

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE DEATH CURE**

It took Thomas over fifteen minutes to calm the others down and convince them that the Griever hole was the _only_ way out. He talked about WICKED. Their variables. Their experiment. Once Thomas was able to go into farther detail, the expressions on the others' faces shifted from denial to curiosity. 

"You need to call a Gathering," Thomas said to Newt with pleading eyes, "Now."

Newt stared at him, his eyes still red from crying. He reached up and rubbed his face with both hands and sighed. "Okay. Ten minutes." 

Minho and Teresa quietly stood and took a step back from the cell. Newt climbed to his feet as well, only to turn towards the door and find a hand waiting to help him out. It was Minho. Newt glanced up at him as he took his hand and Minho pulled him up. Once they were eye-level, Minho gave Newt a _We're not done talking about what just happened_ look. 

With a subtle nod, Newt stepped aside as Minho helped Thomas out of the cell. Together, the group walked quickly towards the Homestead. As they walked, Thomas repeatedly stole glances at Newt from a few feet away. Horrible, horrible images filled his head as he tried to push away the memories of himself at WICKED. 

He and Teresa designed the maze from scratch. They built it. Filled it with people. And they watched it all. They watched it all for almost three years.

Thomas could see himself sitting behind a computer, monitoring the Glade with Teresa on the day of Newt's accident.

Thomas sat there, unable to do anything as Newt scaled the stone wall. 

Thomas saw him jump. 

Newt almost died. _Newt almost died because of what Thomas had done to them._

Thomas shook his head, trying to shake the memories away. It was painfully ironic, how all this time he just wanted to remember, and now he just wanted to forget. _That's not who I am anymore_ , Thomas tried to tell himself.

"Tommy, you alright?" It was Newt. Thomas didn't even notice that he'd walked over right next to him, their shoulders brushing. Newt, concern in his face, lifted a hand and squeezed Thomas' wrist. 

"I..." Thomas stopped himself, not wanting to tell Newt that he was thinking about his accident. He'd already witnessed the torment in Newt's face when he found out that Thomas knew what really happened to his leg. And Thomas didn't want to bring that pain back. Thomas scrambled for something else to say, "It's...nothing. Really." 

Newt gave him a strange look, not believing a single word. Newt was able to tell when something was wrong, not only with Thomas, but with all the Gladers. He read people better than anyone. 

They were all quiet for the rest of the walk, until they'd finally walked through the doors of the very damaged building. The Homestead was patched up with wooden boards in so many places, it was barely recognizable. Even with a few dozen Gladers left, it looked like the place could only hold up for another week before it fell for good. Once inside, Newt called all the Gladers into the main room, while Minho rounded up the remaining keepers and led them to their seats. 

Thomas' heart sank at the sight of the unfilled room. In the center sat a row of chairs for the keepers, just like before. But now, three of the seats were empty. Gally, Zart, and Clint. All gone. 

Groups of Gladers sat all around the room, a new hole in almost all of them. This was Thomas' first time looking them all in the eye since the Changing. And he didn't even know all of their names, yet here they were, dying every night because of him. Thomas had to take a deep breathe, replaying Newt's words from before in his head. _The old Thomas is gone. All that matters is what we do right now._

The voices that bounced across the room hushed as one final Glader stepped into the room. Alby. "Start talking," Alby ordered as he took his usual seat next to Newt. When Thomas didn't answer, he spoke again, "Any day now, Greenie." 

Thomas blinked a few times at his old nickname before taking one final breathe. He looked everyone in the eye as he spoke.

Thomas told them about the Creators, what their real name was. He talked about how they were all collected as young children, put into special schools, and tested over and over beyond belief. Although he couldn't remember what it was, Thomas knew something bad happened, and that all of the Gladers were special somehow. That WICKED needed their help.

The hardest part was telling everyone that their names weren't even real. The one thing, the sole memory that WICKED allowed the Gladers to keep, were just fake nicknames. Thomas gave examples as proof, saying Alby was for Albert Einstein, Newt for Isaac Newton, Chuck for Charles Darwin, Zart for Mozart, and Thomas. As in Edison. As Thomas listed off the names, it became harder and harder for him to look everyone in the eye. He could see the hurt, the sadness, the confusion. It was too much.

When Thomas paused to take another deep breathe, Alby spoke up in anger, "How do you expect us to believe all of this? I didn't remember _any_ of this ridiculous klunk when I went through the Changing." 

Thomas panicked. He knew that he had to say it. As much as he didn't want to, it had to be done. Thomas looked over at Newt for help, and he was met with sad tear-filled eyes. Newt gave him a weak nod, encouraging Thomas to continue. 

Thomas nodded back, and spoke firmly, "There's a reason I remember things that you don't." 

"And what would that be?" Alby asked, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. 

"Remember how I said that the Creators were putting us through this to find the best of us? To use us for something they have planned?" Thomas asked. A few Gladers nodded quietly, listening intently. Others stood where they were, unmoving. "And remember what I said about the code? How we have to use it to earn our way out?"

"The code?" Frypan asked, "But what's it got to do with you?"

"The codes were hidden in the walls of the maze for a reason. And I should know, since I was there when the Creators did it." Thomas said. His voice seemed to echo around the room as the Gladers realized what Thomas was implying. 

"What are you talking about?" Chuck asked, confusion completely taking over his face. His eyes were so wide. 

Thomas' heart dropped at the sight. "Teresa and I, we were...there the whole time. We worked the with Creators. We were smart. We designed the maze, and we built it from scratch. Teresa and I have this...ability that was very valuable in helping us build the maze. We're telepathic." 

More stunned silence. 

Thomas continued, too afraid that someone else would speak. "Listen, they _made_ us work for them, and I have no idea why. But I wanted to tell you this myself so you know that you can trust me. So that you'll believe me when I tell you the truth. I don't know if we were sent here to gain your trust, or to reveal how to get out of the maze, but whatever the reason, we have the codes. And we need to use them _now_." 

"I'm so sorry," Thomas added after a few seconds. The silence was beginning to become unbearable. Thomas didn't know what else to say, and was caught off-guard when Newt stepped forward beside him. 

"This was all the Creators' doing. Those shanks are the reason we're here, not Tommy and Teresa. They're one of us, now," Newt said as he placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder. He gave Thomas a small smirk before turning back to the others. "And we're gonna make the Creators the ones who are sorry."

Winston stared at Thomas with disbelief. "So if you helped design the maze, you know the way out, right?" 

Thomas nodded, eliciting gasps from the Gladers around the room. "It's ridiculously dangerous, but it's the only way out. You have to trust me on this," Thomas answered. "We have to go where nobody has ever looked before." 

"Never looked before?!" Alby almost shouted, "Are you-"

Thomas cut him off without hesitation. "We have to go over the cliff, and through the Griever hole." 

Eruptions burst all across the room, outraged voices filling the air. But Alby was the first to his feet and the first in Thomas' face. "You're trying to get us all killed. You're trying to gain our trust so you can lead us straight to our deaths!" 

"Alby," Thomas almost begged, "I want to get out of here as much as everyone else. I risked my life for you out in the maze, and I risked my life to get my memories back so we could all get out!" 

Alby spat at his feet. "You don't want to get out of here. Didn't you see it?" 

"No," Newt stepped forward between the two, "Not this again. It's over, and we're _leaving_ this place." 

"The Flare," Alby whispered, before speaking louder, "The Flare is out there. A burned world is out there. _There is_ nothing _for us out there!_ " 

Minho stood as well and pushed Alby back almost two feet. Alby looked back at him with a mix of shock and anger. Minho scoffed at him, and shouted, "So you're saying it's better to just stay here and _die_ than to leave? Is that what you want, Alby?!" 

"Yes," Alby muttered in a way that almost sounded like a growl, "It's worse out there. So...much...worse." 

Minho shook his head and walked over to Thomas. "I'm with Thomas. If we die, we die fighting. Not holed up here like a bunch of cowards."

"Me too," Newt answered instantly, walking over to stand by the pair. He reached out and took Thomas' hand in his own. 

It wasn't until now that Thomas realized Newt was shaking. He gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, trying to comfort him. It must have been so hard for Newt to do something like this. Newt was so close with Alby, but now they seemed like strangers. 

Alby looked back and forth between the three of them, before turning on his heels and storming out of the building. "Suit yourselves!" he shouted over his shoulder. "We're all gonna die anyway." 

The door slammed and the room fell silent once again, all eyes back on Thomas. 

Frypan spoke first. "The Griever hole? Really? I trust you, Thomas, but I don't have such a good feeling 'bout this..."

"I'm going," Thomas said with confidence, his voice unwavering, "I'm going through the Griever hole or I'm gonna die trying. I know Newt and Minho are with me, too. If we can fight long enough to punch in the code, we can shut down the maze and face the Creators ourselves. Come with me or not, it's your choice, but we're leaving tonight."

"But how will we make it past all those Grievers?" Someone in the back shouted. 

"Whoever doesn't die'll just get stung!" Another Glader added. 

Thomas hesitated before answering. "I don't think they'll sting us. The Creators don't want us all to die, they need us for whatever they have planned. And right now, the Grievers are programmed to only take one person a day. If someone led the way to the hole and sacrificed themselves, then the rest of us would be able to make it out." 

Thomas thought there would be more shouts of protest, but just like before, only silence followed his words. But this time, it felt like there was a chill in the air. It didn't feel good. 

"And who," Jeff cut in, "would be in their right minds to do something like that?" 

"Well, it's obvious who the poor shank should be," Thomas said, a shiver running through his body. His throat clenched as he spoke, but he forced the words out of his mouth. "Me." 

Now, the uproar. Shouts from every direction came blasting towards Thomas. It was so loud, that Thomas couldn't make out any single person's voice. He looked around, and everyone was on their feet yelling except for one lone person. Chuck. 

Chuck sat in his seat, staring at Thomas with sad eyes. And when Thomas caught his glance, the boy didn't even flinch. Thomas could feeling his heart breaking again at the look on Chuck's face, but before he could do anything, he felt himself being dragged towards the door. 

"You're leaving," Newt said, a hand gripped a little to tightly on Thomas' arm. "Now." 

Newt led Thomas out the door and gave him a gentle push outside. He almost slammed the door behind him, and turned back towards Thomas with wide eyes. "What was that?" Newt asked in a voice that was too calm compared to his outraged face.

"I..." Thomas said, but Newt didn't even hesitate to cut him off harshly. 

"Trying to be the bloody hero again, is that it?!" Newt almost shouted, taking a few steps towards Thomas. Thomas stared back in shock, as he backed up against the wall. 

"What's your problem?" Thomas snapped, "I'm just trying to get everyone out, to fix all of this!" 

"Yeah," Newt scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And I just _loved_ the part where you volunteered to kill yourself." 

Thomas opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He took in a few uneven breathes as he tried to hold back the tears forming in his eyes. _Volunteered to kill yourself._ Thomas shook his head, trying to force Newt's words out of his mind. _Volunteered to kill yourself._ He looked into Newt's eyes and saw the same pain that he had when he first woke up from the Changing. They were sharper than daggers. "Newt..." 

"Don't," Newt said, unmoving from his spot directly in front of Thomas. "Just don't." 

"I'm sorry-" Thomas stammered, reaching up to grab Newt's hand, which was in a tight fist at his side. 

Newt yanked his hand away and stepped back a few feet. He turned so that he was facing away from the Homestead and from Thomas. 

"Newt," Thomas sighed as he took a few cautious steps away from the building, "Newt, just listen!" 

Newt groaned and turned to face Thomas, a fire still blazing in his eyes. "What?"

"I don't care whether the Creators _made_ me do this or not. Either way, I still helped lock all of you in here and watched people die!" Thomas was shouting and clenching his fists as he walked towards Newt. But then, he paused and his face softened with a sad look. "I...I just feel like I need to save everyone. I need to redeem myself. And I'm going out there no matter what so you might as well not waste it." 

Newt stared at him questioningly, but said nothing. 

"Nobody else should have to die because of what I helped do," Thomas added in desperation. He needed Newt to know how he felt. "Please understand." 

More silence followed. Slowly, Newt walked up to Thomas until they were just inches apart. He sighed when all he could see was pure guilt and desperation in Thomas' eyes. Newt folded his arms. "I couldn't possibly know what that feels like," he said quietly, "but I _do_ know that you're wrong." 

"Newt?" Thomas asked. "Wha-"

"HOW _DARE_ YOU SAY NOBODY ELSE NEEDS TO DIE, AND THEN VOLUNTEER TO GET YOURSELF KILLED!" Newt shouted as loudly as he could to hide the pain. But it didn't last long. Tears welled up in Newt's eyes and spilled down his face, but his angered expression didn't waver. "Nobody else needs to die, and that includes you, Thomas." 

Now it was Thomas' turn to be quiet. 

"How could you do that to us?" Newt cried desperately, his eyes shimmering. His voice cracked when he spoke again. "To me?" 

With a hesitant hand, Thomas reached up to wipe it away the fallen tears on Newt's face. He held his hand on Newt's face for a few moments longer before letting it fall back to his side. "I'm sorry...I-" 

"Don't _ever_ do that again," Newt said, his face stern with anger. But at the sight of regret in Thomas' face, Newt's expression softened before he spoke again. He reached up to wipe away his final tears. "We're in this together, Tommy, remember?" 

Thomas nodded, silent apologies written all over his face.

Newt could still sense Thomas' hesitation. Thomas was just trying to do what he thought was right. He wanted to help. Newt understood that, but he just needed Thomas to know that he was worrying so much about everyone else, that he forgot about himself.

Zart's familiar words echoed through Newt's mind. He'd had said the exact same thing about Newt. And now, Newt knew that Zart's words were true. It was Newt's job to keep everyone together, and that's just what he was doing. And now, he realized what he needed to do next. Newt was the Glue, after all.

Newt leaned over to place a quick reassuring kiss on Thomas' nose. He let out a deep sigh as a very small smile grew on his face. "I'm going to go in there and convince all those shanks we need to go through the Griever hole together. Tonight, before anyone else is taken. But listen here," Newt said, poking a finger on Thomas' chest, "Not another buggin' word about that heroic klunk. We all go out there as a group and we all take our chances." 

Relief flooded through Thomas' body at Newt's words. They were getting out, together. He couldn't help but give Newt a thankful smile in return. "Good that." 

Newt returned a bigger smile, turning to head towards the door. He stepped inside, but poked his head out at the last second. "Hey Tommy? Meet me by the box when we're done. I'll come find you." 

Thomas nodded as Newt shut the door. He turned and made his way over to the box, feeling nervous. This was their only chance, and he just hoped everyone else would take it with him. 

It was tonight or never.


	35. Departure

Thomas laid on his back, the dry grass crunching underneath him every time he shifted his body. His hands were crossed behind his head as he stared blankly at the dark gray sky above. Despite everything that happened today, Thomas tried his hardest to just not think about any of it. Instead, he focused on tonight's plan. He just hoped that the other Gladers would agree on it.

After an hour, Thomas could hear the faint sound of Gladers beginning to exit the Homestead. He sat up, sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap. One by one, Gladers soundlessly exited the building. Thomas was much too far away to see what expressions they wore on their faces, but he could tell by their stature that they'd all come to some sort an agreement. 

They all looked more focused, and seemed to all be walking out with a purpose. Most of them headed to the livestock and dining hall on the other side of the Glade, while others stayed near the Homestead. Thomas watched everyone come out, and stayed put when he failed to see Newt exit. It took him a few minutes to realize that Minho hadn't left yet either. 

Thomas waited patiently for them, keeping his eyes on the Homestead. He had a feeling that he knew what this was about. Eventually, after another fifteen minutes, Thomas saw the two walk through the front door. Newt came out first, then Minho. The two turned to face each other, and Minho gave him a quick embrace along with a steadying pat on the shoulder once they'd pulled apart.

Newt watched Minho walk away, before looking over towards the Box and spotting Thomas on the grass. He quickly made his way over, as fast as his limp would allow. Thomas frowned in concern as Newt drew closer. He'd been crying again. 

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked as Newt sat down next to him. 

A small smile broke through Newt's sad face. "Yeah," he answered, "Minho, he was...not happy with me." 

"...Because you never told him?" Thomas asked softly. He remembered how upset Minho was when he found out what Newt had been hiding from him for so long. 

Newt nodded with a sigh. "I never told him because I didn't want him to worry about me. I mean, he's already an overprotective person to start with," Newt let out a tired laugh and sniffed, "but I didn't want him to feel guilty. I was afraid he'd blame himself for what happened. I think he's okay now, though." 

Thomas looked up at him, his face blank of expression. "I still blame myself." 

"But I don't," Newt said as he scooted his body over, erasing the space between them. He reached up and placed a firm arm around Thomas' shoulders, pulling the boy in so that his head was resting on his shoulder. Newt gave him a gentle kiss on top of his head, "You know I never will."

Thomas nodded and closed his eyes, leaning in even closer to Newt. He tried to tell himself that Newt was right, that it was the Creator's fault and not his own, there was still a quiet voice in the back of his mind that told him otherwise. He tuned the voice out, focusing on Newt instead. 

He knew the guilt would always be there, no matter what he did. But Thomas could start to feel the worst parts of it begin to slip away, replaced with something different. Something better. It wasn't quite hope...but not quite relief either. It was like a mix of the two, and Thomas knew why he felt it. He may have helped the Creators in the past, but now he was here and more than willing to help everyone escape the maze. He'll help them get out, or die trying, to make up for what he did before.

It wasn't until he had that thought that Thomas remembered why he'd been waiting by the Box for over an hour. The Gathering, the plan. "Wait," he said, pushing to sit up and face Newt, "What happened at the Gathering after I left?"

Newt smirked as he gave Thomas' shoulder a squeeze. He could sense the sudden anticipation radiating off of Thomas. "We're leaving, tonight." 

Thomas looked at Newt in pure awe. "Really!?" He gasped.

Trying not to laugh at the excitement in Thomas' eyes, Newt replied with a wider grin and a few quick nods. 

Thomas' eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open in surprise. Newt had done it. Somehow, he'd managed to convince everyone in that room that the best thing they could do was follow Thomas into the maze and fight the Grievers. They were _actually_ leaving tonight and Thomas finally had a real chance to get everyone out of the maze. With a laugh, Thomas launched himself towards Newt and planted quick kisses all over his face, squeezing in multiple thank you's between each one. 

Newt laughed as he tried to squirm away, which only encouraged Thomas to keep going. Thomas' heart swelled at the sound of Newt's laugh. He couldn't remember the last time it sounded so happy, so genuine.

"Tommy!" Newt said playfully as he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, "Stop!" 

"But I love your laugh," Thomas smiled and climbed over Newt so that his hands were on the ground on either side of Newt's torso. 

Once he had Newt pinned to the ground, Thomas slowly leaned down a gave him a deep kiss on the lips. It didn't take long for Newt to give in, kissing him back with just as much force. Without hesitation, Thomas slid his tongue across Newt's bottom lip, asking for entrance. Newt complied, failing to stifle a moan and Thomas pressed in even closer. 

Newt reached up, running his hands through Thomas' hair, as he leaned forward into the kiss. Just seconds later, Thomas shifted his legs in order to straddle Newt's waist so he could do the same.

After some time, Thomas had to pull back to catch his breathe. The two pulled apart just enough to get air, but kept their foreheads touching. And as he did, he stared back at Newt with a look of nothing less than pure admiration. 

The way Newt's hair rustled in the wind, and the way his eyes always managed to sparkle without the sun made Thomas feel something flutter in his stomach. "You're amazing, you know that?" Thomas breathed, running a hand down the side of Newt's face. 

Newt, whose face was already a little pink, blushed at Thomas' words. His hands work their way up to Thomas' shirt, grasping it at the collar. "Come here," Newt muttered through a smile. 

Almost instantly, Thomas felt himself being pulled back down towards Newt, and into another kiss. He smiled as the blonde squirmed beneath him, trying to get their bodies closer. 

But this time, they were cut short. 

"WILL YOU TWO SHANKS STOP SUCKING FACE AND COME HELP OUT OVER HERE?" 

The pair immediately pulled apart and sat up, Thomas still practically in Newt's lap. Their eyes darted around searching for the source of the voice, until they both caught sight of Minho. He was standing a few dozen yards away, both hands placed on his hips impatiently. 

Newt and Thomas looked back towards each other, sharing the same embarrassed but disappointed look. 

"Shuck it," Thomas said, rolling his eyes, as he pulled Newt in again for a quick final kiss.

"COME ON!" Minho shouted from where he stood. He tried to sound mad, but wasn't doing well at hiding his amusement. Most of the others were too far away or too busy prepping to notice anything, but a few stopped to see what the keeper was yelling about. Minho noticed one person in particular and jokingly shouted, making sure he was loud enough for Thomas to hear, "Hey! Cover your eyes, Chuck!" 

At that name, Thomas pulled away, and even deeper blush forming on his face. He quickly backed up off of Newt, sitting on the ground next to the blonde. With a sheepish look, Thomas reached up and scratched the back of his head, purposefully not looking in the direction Minho just shouted in. 

Newt laughed and shook his head. Thomas stood first, and held out a hand to help Newt off the ground. Together, the two walked over towards Minho, hands still intertwined.

"I think everyone here would appreciate it if you two kept all that lovey klunk to yourselves until _after_ we get out of here," Minho smirked as the couple approached. 

Newt let out a small laugh and leaned over to Thomas and whispered, "I reckon he's just jealous." 

"Ha!" Minho exclaimed, "You wish, shuck-face." 

Thomas grinned. He could no longer feel any of the tension that had grown between them earlier that morning. It was like everything was back to normal again, even if only for a few minutes. It felt nice. And it helped remind Thomas of what they were all striving for: To escape the maze, face the Creators, and build new and better lives for themselves. 

"So if you two are actually ready to work now," Minho continued, crossing his arms as he began to walk, "We could use some help distributing all the weapons from the cellar." 

"Lead the way," Newt said with a wave of his hand. Together, the three walked over to the cellar, where Winston and two other Gladers were already cleaning off the old and mostly unused weapons. 

Minho stayed with them to help sharpen the dull blades, while Newt and Thomas helped deliver them to Gladers throughout the day. Thomas didn't say anything, but he noticed the disappointed look on Newt's face when he emerged from the Homestead after giving Alby his bow and sheath of arrows. It probably didn't go very well. 

When almost all the weapons were passed out, Thomas took one final stop at the cellar. Minho handed him a two more blades, one larger and one smaller. "I think you know who these are for," Minho said with an expressionless face. Thomas nodded, taking both weapons in his hands and walking off towards the dining hall. 

Thomas found Teresa first. She was helping the Frypan and the other cooks prepare their last meal. Without any hesitation, Teresa snatched the larger knife and sheathed it in her belt. There was worry in her eyes, but not regarding the weapon. "How are you doing, Tom?" She asked when Thomas turned to leave. After what happened this morning, she couldn't help but feel at least a little concerned.

Thomas turned back, giving Teresa a confident look. "I'm okay. And I mean it, I really am okay." 

"That's really good to hear," Teresa answered softly. Most of the disbelief had faded from her eyes, but there was still some there.

Thomas gave her a small smile in return. "I felt good about leaving earlier, like, really good. Like this is what we're supposed to do. But as the day went on, I...I got more nervous." 

Teresa didn't respond. 

"I guess I just hope that I'm not leading everyone into a death trap," Thomas admitted, struggling to hold onto the hope he'd felt earlier when Newt told him the news about the Gathering. "What if I was wrong?" 

"No," Teresa said, shaking her head firmly, "I think we're doing exactly what we need to. Anything is better than staying in here, waiting to be picked off by the Grievers." 

Thomas sighed. He knew Teresa was right. "I know, I just...I'm still scared." 

"It's good to be scared sometimes," Teresa said. "I wouldn't want to follow you if you weren't." 

A weak smile grew on Thomas' face. He nodded, taking in Teresa's words and giving her a thanks. 

"Let's go, Teresa!" Frypan suddenly shouted from the other side of the kitchen, "We still have plenty of work to do before dinner!" 

Teresa flashed Thomas a quick smile, and said "I'll see you at dinner." 

The two parted ways, Teresa heading back over to Frypan and Thomas walking over towards the livestock. Once he got there, he scanned the area for one person in particular. It didn't take long to find him, though, with his constant babbling. 

"Hey, Chuck," Thomas said as he walked up to the boy, acting completely nonchalant about what happened earlier. 

Chuck looked up, wiping his forehead with his wrist. With a tired smile on his face, he walked over in front of Thomas. "Hey."

"You okay, bud?" Thomas asked as he reached up to give Chuck's shoulder a few pats. 

Chuck took a moment before nodding his head. Thomas could sense the nervousness radiating off the boy's body, and felt the sudden need to do everything he could to make Chuck feel better. 

"Hey," Thomas said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the blade, "I brought you something." 

Thomas held the dagger out in front of him for Chuck to see. Chucks eyes grew wide as he stared at the object, making no move to take it. "I don't know, Thomas...I don't think I ca-" 

"Please take it," Thomas said, holding his hand out even farther. "You probably won't need it, but I want you to have something to protect yourself with out there, just in case." 

Chuck stared at the blade again as he let out a nervous breathe. "Just in case," He said, nodding his head quickly. Chuck reached out and took the knife. It looked small in Thomas' hands, but in Chuck's it was the perfect size. The boy stood there, knife in hand, very unsure of what to do with it.

"Here," Thomas said as he bent down and helped secure the knife under Chuck's belt, right above his hip. "That should hold. Just don't forget it's there." 

"Okay," Chuck said, his voice a little shaky. "Um...thanks, Thomas." 

Thomas gave him a smile and another pat on the back before standing back up. "Everything's gonna be fine, Chuck. I'm still keeping my promise." 

Chuck sighed, no longer trying to hold back his worried expression. "From what I've heard, the world isn't in too great of shape. What if there really _is_ nothing out there for us?" 

"We're gonna find the people that care for us, Chuck. I know we will," Thomas said, his heart sinking at Chuck's sad face. 

Chuck frowned. "But do you really think that? Or are you just saying that to cheer me up?" 

Thomas looked back with a sad but honest face. "Of course I think that."

The boy nodded again, contemplating Thomas' words. It looked like he desperately wanted to believe what Thomas said, but something inside him kept telling him otherwise. 

"Don't worry, Chuck," Thomas said as he leaned down to give Chuck a quick hug, "I'm gonna get you home."

Chuck let out a defeated sigh and hugged Thomas back. "I'd like that." 

With a glance at his watch, Thomas pulled away and started to walk back towards the others. "I'll see you in an hour, Chuck." 

As that hour passed, the Gladers slowly began to gather at the dining hall to eat their last meal. The mood of the Glade felt so different now than it did earlier. Before, there was so much energy surging through the Gladers, everyone excited about the idea of getting out of the maze. But now, Thomas discovered he wasn't the only one who'd grown nervous as their departure drew closer. 

The only sounds that filled the hall were the clatters and clinks of silverware and glasses. Everyone was too deep in thought, whether it was about the Glade, the maze, the Grievers, the Creators, or the outside world. They were all scared. And the worst part is that none of them even knew what they were scared of.

Thomas sat next to Newt, keeping a close eye on everyone's plates to make sure they were eating enough. Minho, Teresa, and Chuck all sat at the table as well, keeping to themselves. 

Underneath the table, Newt's hand made it's way over on top of Thomas' leg, rubbing soothing circles. He could probably sense the worry and fear Thomas was feeling, and this was his attempt to calm him down. It worked for the rest of dinner, but as soon as they separated Thomas' anxiety came crawling back into his mind.

Everything they'd done in the Glade all came down to tonight. And Thomas had only been here for such a short time compared to everyone else. He couldn't imagine how some of them could be feeling right now. Newt. Minho. Winston. Jeff. Alby...

When the time came, the Gladers gathered at the open stone doors. It wasn't until now that they began to realize how vulnerable they were out here. Normally at this time, they'd be holing up in what remained of the Homestead, hoping that they'd last another night against the Grievers. And now, here they were, standing out in plain sight. The only thing that helped them keep calm was the fact that everyone was in this together. One way or another. 

The last two to arrive were Newt and Alby. Alby didn't come to dinner earlier, he'd chosen to remain in the Homestead instead. When he didn't show up once everyone began to clear out, Newt went to go get him. Thomas wondered what Newt had to do to get Alby on his feet and out the door, but at the same time, he didn't want to know. Alby wore this wild look in his eye that screamed danger. 

As Thomas watched Alby approach, he decided to keep an extra close eye on him. Even though Newt was practically in charge at this point, Alby could still lash out either way. And they couldn't mess this up, they only had one shot. 

"Okay," Newt breathed out as he walked up next to Thomas, who stood at the front facing the group. He only had to raise his voice a little bit to speak over the quiet murmurs in the group. "There's forty one of us." 

At the sound of Newt's voice, everyone turned to face the boy. Silence consumed them. Thomas' eyes shifted from person to person, seeing faces with anything from fear to acceptance.

"We all know the plan," Newt said in a firm voice, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "We go out there, fight off the Grievers long enough to Tommy to punch in his special code, we get out, and we face the Creators ourselves. Before we go, make sure you all have your supplies and weapons." 

"Wait!" Minho said just seconds after Newt finished speaking. 

Newt sighed and turned towards the keeper. "What?" 

"Shouldn't someone give a pep talk or something?" He asked, taking a step forward. 

Newt opened his arms into a wide gesture, sarcastically welcoming Minho to the front. "Be my guest." 

Minho turned to face the other Gladers, giving them all a serious look as he spoke in a low tone. "Be careful. Don't die." 

"Great," Newt scoffed after Minho's words were followed by silence, "We're all bloody inspired." 

Minho shrugged, not moving from where he stood. He looked over at Thomas, who'd started to inch away from the front, and gave him a nod to come over. Slowly, Thomas made his way back to the front of the group, staring once again at the faces of the people he'd help put in here himself. He took a long, deep breathe. He was ready. 

"Listen," Thomas said, "I don't know what to expect out there. None of us really do. But I know that this is what we're supposed to do. We have to fight. And I don't know about all of you, but I'd rather take my chances out there than spend the rest of my life trapped in here."

As Thomas spoke, his eyes drifted over to the short boy standing off to the side of the group. Once they locked eyes, Thomas gave him a firm look and continued, "It's okay to be scared. I'm scared." Now his eyes drifted over to Teresa, remembering her words from earlier. "But right now is our only chance, and we can't just throw it away. We're leaving this place, together. Once and for all. And after we're out, the Creators will be the ones who'll be scared." 

Cheers erupted from the group of Gladers as they all raised their weapons in the air. Even Alby raised his bow, despite the stoic look that remained on his face. It must've been something Newt had said to him that made him change his mind. Chuck smiled at Thomas, giving him two thumbs-up for encouragement. 

"You hear that Creators?!" Newt shouted towards the sky. "We're coming for you!" 

As the group drew closer to the edge of the Glade, they all turned to face the ivy-covered maze. For most of the Gladers, this was their first time ever leaving the Glade. This moment must have made it all too real for them. 

The cheering continued as Newt leaned over to Thomas and yelled in his ear, "Are you ready?" 

Thomas looked at him and answered with a firm nod. He felt Newt reach over to give his hand one final squeeze. 

Minho saw Thomas' answer as well, and yelled to the others. "LET'S RUN!" He shouted, dashing into the maze with no hesitation. The others followed quickly, most of them all too eager to get out of the Glade. Others lingered towards the back of the group, a little more hesitant about leaving the only place they remember calling home. 

Then, they ran. They ran and ran and never stopped to look back. They just kept running on, deeper into the depths of the maze.

The final test was about to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this was like half a day late! I had a pretty busy week and this was a long chapter, so I didn't want to rush it! And even though I haven't written them all yet, I'm guessing that there's only a few chapters left! AHHH!!!


	36. Fight (Newt's POV)

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE DEATH CURE, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE/BLOOD**

It'd been hours since they left the maze. But they still ran. 

The sounds of heavy panting filled the maze corridors as a majority of the Gladers struggled to keep up with Minho and the other runners. Newt started out next to them, leading the front of the pack, but he fell towards the back of the group when his bad leg began to act up. Thomas fell back with him, remaining at Newt's side as they ran deeper into the maze. 

Even though Thomas tried to hide his glances, Newt could see him look over every few minutes to make sure he was doing okay. Newt pretended not to notice. 

At one point, Newt saw Teresa turn back to give Thomas a confused look. He looked back and forth between the two, noticing the frowns on both of their faces. It wasn't until then that Newt realized they were talking to each other. There was no way to tell what they were talking about, but Newt got an idea when he saw Teresa follow Thomas' glance up towards something on one of the walls ahead of them. Writing.

**W.I.C.K.E.D: WORLD IN CATASTROPHE KILLZONE EXPERIMENT DEPARTMENT**

Newt remembered seeing those words plastered on the walls back when he was a runner. A chill ran down his spine as his memories from the maze came flooding back into his mind. He tried to push them away, but the images were too strong and vivid to look past. 

The sight of himself scaling the ivy-strewn wall appeared before him filled Newt's mind. He remembered how much harder it was to do than he originally anticipated. Whenever he grabbed a vine to pull himself higher, another seemed to snap under his feet and send him backwards. 

He gave up when he was halfway up the wall. 

Carefully, taking extra care not to lose his grip, Newt spun himself around so that his back was against the wall. Despite the warmth of the day, the wall felt so cold against his body. He loosened his grip slightly. 

Newt shook his head as he ran with the group, trying to shake the memory away. He already knew how it ended, and he didn't need to see it again. But it wouldn't leave. 

As he leaned his head back against the stone wall, a breeze blew over his head. But Newt couldn't feel it. The only reason he knew it was there was because of the way his hair began to rustle back and forth. 

" _I'm sorry_ ," He whispered as he loosened his grip on the ivy even more so that he was barely holding himself up. The plants began to stretch beyond capacity, causing them to break and snap under Newt's grasp. He was running out of time. 

Newt closed his eyes as a single tear fell down his cheek. And when he did he saw the faces of his friends, all looking at him with smiling faces. Taking in a deep but uneven breathe, Newt whispered one final words as he let his hands slip away from the vines. " _Goodbye._ "

Then everything went still. There were no sounds or no feelings. It was quiet. So, so, quiet. Newt felt lighter, like all the weight of his body was gone. 

He kept his eyes shut as he fell.

Newt didn't notice the tears that had been forming in his eyes until it was too late. They fell, rolling down his face and falling off his chin. Raising his hand quickly, Newt wiped at his face with his wrist. 

But his movements did not go unseen. As Newt was wiped the final tear off his face, he felt a gentle tap on the side of his shoulder. When he looked up, Thomas stared back at him with a knowing look of concern. 

Thomas didn't even need to say anything for Newt to know what he was thinking. Thomas knew what Newt was remembering just now. What Newt was thinking about. 

With a single word, the two just stared at each other as they ran. All Newt needed was a single glance at Thomas' expression to see the train-wreck of emotions current building in his head. 

Sadness. Guilt. Defeat. Concern. Fear. 

They both saw themselves in the other's eyes. 

And they didn't need to say anything to know that. So instead they just gazed at one another until they eventually fell to the very back of the group. For a while, they silently held hands, providing the support and reassurance they both needed. 

As the run came to a close, the Gladers slowed down to a stop to regroup. All of them, except Minho and Alby, desperately drank what was left of their water. But it didn't do much to soothe the burn that grew in everyone's throats. 

Giving the others some time to catch their breathe and get come energy back, Minho called Thomas and Newt over to where he was standing. Once huddled together in a tight circle, Minho turned his back towards the other Gladers. 

"The Griever hole is just a few more turns up ahead." He said in a firm voice. Despite all the running, Minho appeared as though he'd just woken up from a full night's sleep. Even his hair was still in tack. "I'll get everyone up in five minutes." 

Thomas nodded, agreeing with the plan. They all needed a few minutes to recuperate, especially if they needed to fight their way out. 

A silence fell between the three that none of them wanted to fill. They knew they were all thinking the same thing. If this really does come down to a fight, not everyone will make it out. This could be the last time they ever saw each other. It was really starting to sink in that they could die. 

"Minho," Thomas muttered quietly, scared to make too loud of a noise, "I don't know what's gonna happen out there but, I just wanted t-" 

"Don't you _dare_ get all sappy on me now, Thomas." Minho retorted in a whisper, pointing a warning finger at the boy. 

Thomas sighed, rolling his eyes. "Thanks for sticking with me, Minho. I don't know if we'd be here without you." 

Minho sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment before glancing back up. A look of sincerity overtook his face. "Guess I can say the same for you, shuck-face." Minho gave Thomas a smile and reached over to give him a few strong pats on the back. 

Minho's gaze then shifted from Thomas to Newt. They didn't say any words, having already said them back in the Homestead after the Gathering. Instead they gave each other the same look. One that said, _No matter what happens, we're brothers till the end._

With one final nod, Minho turned back to face the group of Gladers. Trying to be as quiet as he could, Minho walked away and gestured for the others to get up and ready. The time had come. 

Newt turned to Thomas, positive he was wearing the same look of terror that Thomas had on his face. So much was running through his head at once. There was so much he wanted to say, that he _needed_ to say. But there was so little time left, and they both knew it.

Without another second of hesitation, Thomas grabbed Newt's shoulders and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Newt savored every second, every detail. Everything about this moment. 

Because as much as he didn't want to admit it, it could be their last. 

Thomas' touch was so gentle. His hands felt lighter than feathers as they slid down Newt's arms. When their hands met they pulled away, keeping their foreheads touching. 

His eyes were a deep brown, but not brown like the dirt or a tree. They had a shine to them, like embers in a dying fire. They were so warm, and despite whatever Thomas said, Newt could still see the same glint of hope he saw the day they first met. 

Newt stared into them, his heart dropping with every second that passed by. Every second gone was a second closer to them being apart. He didn't want to leave Thomas, but knew he had to. His stomach turned. 

How could you let go of someone that close to you, knowing that you may never see them again? 

Thomas meant so much to him. He meant _everything_ to him. The connection they formed from the start was unlike any other Newt had made. They were supportive of each other. They were there for each other. They understood each other on a deep level that no one else ever would. _This isn't the end_ , Newt frantically repeated to himself. _This isn't the end_. 

In that moment, Thomas pulled away and stared Newt directly in the eyes. "Newt...I...I just-" 

"I know," Newt said. "Me too." 

Thomas nodded, letting his hands linger on Newt's for just a few seconds longer before turning to walk towards the group. Then his touch was gone, leaving Newt's hands to sit alone in the crisp air. Most of them were up and ready by now, patting down their bags to double-check where their weapons were. 

Newt reached over his shoulder and pulled our the machete he'd sheathed behind his pack. It had been his from the start, and he used it every day in the Glade without fail. One more day is all he needed. He tightened his grip on the handle as Minho spoke. 

"This is it," Minho said, pulling out his own weapons. "Everyone move and stay behind me." 

Minho turned, rounding one of the last few corners that led to the Griever hole. The others shuffled their feet behind him, hands shaking as they held their weapons tightly to their chests. Nobody dared speak another word.

What couldn't have been more than a hundred feet felt like miles. Newt tried to stay quiet and listen for the sound of Grievers, but he couldn't hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He walked slightly behind Thomas, so he could keep him in sight as they drew closer to the hole. 

Then, everyone stopped. 

Minho slowly peeked around the final corner, only to quickly reel back and lean against the wall. He took a deep breathe and nodded, putting pieces together in his head. By the look on his face, Newt knew it couldn't be good. "There's at least a dozen of them right in front of the hole. They're just standing there, like they're waiting for something," Minho whispered, frowning.

Thomas let out a defeated sigh. Newt knew that he was hoping the Grievers would be out wandering the maze, or heading towards the Glade to take someone else. Newt was sure they all had a feeling that this was going to end in a fight. It's just that nobody wanted to admit it. 

Minho and Thomas peeked around the corner again, only this time to be spotted by the Grievers. They roared a guttural metallic sound as they pounded their feet on the ground. The two reared back at the sound, ready to run, but the Grievers didn't move from where they were. Instead, they sat there with their metal legs bent, looking like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. 

That's when Thomas realized what they were doing. He turned to the group and said, "They _are_ waiting. The Grievers aren't gonna move until we do." 

"Shuck," Minho said, tightening his grasp on his weapon. He looked over at Newt, unable to hide the concern in his eyes. 

Before he could say anything, Alby made his way to the front of the group, rage filling his eyes. He stopped in front of Thomas and threw his bow so hard on the group that a large crack appeared down the side of it. "We shouldn't have come," He said menacingly. 

Alby looked over Thomas' shoulders at the Grievers, his eyes wide. He didn't move as he watched them. Newt could tell he was contemplating something difficult, but he had no idea what. 

"Maybe I should..." Alby started, but never finished. Instead, he took off, sliding his quiver down his arm and onto the ground. 

"Alby?!" Newt gasped as he watched the boy sprint straight towards the group of awaiting Grievers. "Get back here!" 

Alby let out a loud scream as he launched his body onto the first Griever. In a matter of seconds, the others were all on top of him. Alby struggled, his arms flying through the air. He tugged and punched at the Grievers, but couldn't deal any significant damage. The Gladers lost sight of him as the beasts crowded around the poor boy. That's when the screaming stopped.

Newt let out a cry as he tried to catch a glimpse of his friend in the frenzy. He began to run forward, desperate to get him out, when a strong hand on his arm held him back. "STOP! Let go of me!" He shouted, not even looking back to see who it was. Alby was out there. Alby needed his help. 

"He's gone, Newt." It was Thomas. There was pain in his voice. "He's gone." 

"No," Newt said as his attempts to break free from Thomas grew weaker and weaker. It wasn't long before his knees gave out, and he fell to the ground. He stared at the spot where Alby had just stood. Just like that, another friend gone. "...No." 

In that moment, everything that'd happened between Alby and Newt after Alby got stung seemed to fade away. Right now, the only Alby that Newt could see was the one he'd grown so close to for three years in the Glade. He saw his best friend.

"We can't waste what he just did," Minho breathed out. Newt's head shot up at his words, and he saw that Minho was struggling to hold back tears. 

"What are you talking about?" Newt asked, frowning.

"He gave himself up..." Thomas said as if he was piecing everything together in his mind as he spoke. "He sacrificed himself so we could get through." 

"Exactly," Minho said, wiping his eyes quickly, "We need to go, _now_." 

Newt couldn't believe what he was hearing. Alby just _died_. "How could you be so heartless?" 

"Newt...don't," Minho said, raising a warning hand in front of him. It took everything he had to keep it together. "Alby didn't even want to go back to his old life. He just sacrificed himself so that we could get through the Griever hole. It'd be heartless of _us_ to waste that." 

Newt said nothing. Instead, he turned away, his eyes closed. Minho spoke to the rest of the group, telling them the new plan. 

"I'm sorry, Newt," a voice, which Newt knew belonged to Thomas, said from behind him. Newt didn't speak, but he nodded his head in acknowledgement. So many people have died. _Please, no more..._ Newt thought to himself. With a broken heart, Newt turned back to the group, quietly tuning in to Minho's quick speech. 

"..so it's like I said. Getting Thomas to the Griever hole is our top priority. Have you weapons out and ready to use, just i-" 

A menacing sound cut Minho off before he could finish. The Gladers turned, looking back in the direction that Alby had run. Down the long corridor were the Grievers, all rattling and screeching as they turned back to face the group. Gasps escaped the others' mouths as they began to realize that the Grievers were moving now. They were heading straight for them. 

Newt stood, a sick feeling in his stomach. Alby's sacrifice was in vain. 

"I can't get through that," Thomas breathed, panic starting to build in his voice.

Teresa, who'd remained quiet for most of the run, walked up next to Thomas. "Not alone. I'm going with you." 

Minho looked between the two, giving them an approving and reassuring look. "We'll get you through." 

Newt took a deep breathe, trying to calm his nerves. He could feel the adrenaline starting to pump through his body as his hands began to shake. Newt knew what he had to do, and that was to make sure everyone fought together, and escaped together. They were out of time. "Minho," Newt said, steady enough to hide his fear, "You take the lead. Punch a hole for Tommy and Teresa and have them follow through. I've got your back."

"Okay," Minho said, giving Newt one final look. Then, he turned to face the Grievers with a dangerous look in his eyes. "NOW!" He shouted, taking his first steps forward, "GO, GO, GO!" 

The others followed, forming a group around Thomas and Teresa as they bolted towards the Grievers. Newt stayed at the back of the group, making sure that both Thomas and Teresa were in his sight as they all ran. Then, time seemed to slow. 

The Gladers pushed forward with all their might, weapons out in front of them. Every step closer was another step closer to death. Or escaping. Right now, with over a dozen Grievers charging them down, their chances didn't seem very good. 

As he stared the metal beasts in the eyes, Newt no longer cared about the maze. The lies. The experiment. The Creators. He'd already endured so much pain, and he didn't want to go through any more. Now, he just wanted to get out. He wanted everyone to be safe. 

Newt watched as Minho collided with the first Griever, ramming into it's side with his body. He tried desperately to push it to the side, but wasn't able to move it until a few other Gladers ran over to help. Once they others saw what Minho was trying to do, they all joined in, pushing and tackling the metallic machines against the walls. Newt watched Thomas and Teresa dodged the Grievers, pulling Chuck along with them. 

That's when all hell broke lose.

Shrieks and screams of both Gladers and Grievers filled the air, so many at once that it was impossible to tell them apart. The ground seemed to shake under Newt's feet as the beasts pounded their claws into the ground and walls, ripping out chunks of rock as they retracted them. There was so much going on in every direction that it was too much to see all at once. 

But when a Griever started to make its way towards Thomas, Newt saw it and didn't hesitate. He yelled when as the Griever approached Thomas, pushing himself to run even faster. With his machete raised behind his head, Newt leaped onto the Griever's legs to block it from Thomas' path. He swung down the blade with an impressive amount of force, lodging his weapon into the flesh of the monster. 

Newt yanked the machete back, only to send it right back into the Griever's body with a loud clang. It didn't do much damage, but it did distract the Griever long enough for Thomas and the others to escape its sight. For a second, as Newt battled to pull his blade out of the Griever, he thought he saw Thomas look back at him. 

With Newt distracted for a short moment, the Griever reared up and shook its body in attempt to knock Newt off. And it worked, but a little too well. Newt flew through the air and hit the ground hard. He tumbled across the stone ground, underneath a Griever that was currently fighting someone else. And whoever it was, they weren't winning. As Newt tumbled by, blood dripped from the Griever's blades and onto his clothes. It was warm. 

The wall stopped Newt's momentum, shooting pain up his back as he collided with it. Desperately trying to shake off the pounding in his head, Newt looked up in search of Thomas. His eyes frantically scanned the battle, panic growing in his heart every second. But then, he saw him with Teresa and Chuck. 

They were almost to the cliff. 

At least seven or eight Gladers stood around them, pinning Grievers to the wall on both sides. Newt gasped as he watched a Griever lift up a sharp claw into the air and drive it straight through the stomach of one of the Gladers. He could hear the crunch of bones breaking. The boy, Newt couldn't see who, fell limp as the Griever slid his body off and tossed it to the side like it was nothing. 

They weren't going to hold them back much longer. Not without help, anyway. 

"FRY! MIN!" Newt shouted as loud as he could, getting back to his feet. He had no idea where they were, or if they were even alive. Death was everywhere. As he waited, another Griever approached Newt, and he slashed it across the face with his blade. The creature shrieked and backed up, but not far enough. Newt was on top of it in seconds, hacking and beating at the area behind its head. There had to be a weak spot somewhere. 

As Newt slammed his weapon down onto the Griever, it hissed and began to walk forward. No matter how hard he tried, Newt couldn't push back hard enough. He began to slide backwards on the ground as the relentless Griever pushed onward. A blade on one of the Griever's claws spun out then, pointing directly towards Newt's chest. Newt spotted it, eyes wide, and began to struggle even more to escape the beast's grasp. But the blade moved closer. 

And just as he felt the tip of the ragged metal cut through his shirt and touch his chest, Newt felt something, or someone, at his sides. Together, they pushed the Griever back so hard that it tipped over and landed on its back. 

"Huh," Minho groaned between his heaving breathes, hands on his knees, "That was close." 

"Too close." Frypan added, just as out of breathe. Underneath the new tear in his sleeve was a bright red gash, dripping blood and staining his shirt crimson. 

Newt, seeing who'd helped him, felt a quick burst of relief flood through him. He'd never been happier to see their faces in his entire life. "Come on," Newt said without hesitation, grabbing both of their arms and guiding them through the mess of Grievers. "Up there!" 

As they ran, the three evaded dozens of swinging claws and blades. They passed so many people that needed help, and seeing every one of them sent a pang of guilt through Newt's heart. He wanted to help all of them, but the code was the priority. If they didn't get Thomas and the others to the hole, then they would _all_ die. Newt felt sick. 

As they approached the cliff, the trio slowed down, taking in the scene. Minho and Frypan quickly spotted Thomas, Teresa, and Chuck all struggling to make it to the cliff. The Grievers being held back by the Gladers were about to break free and pounce them. Without pause, the three quickly ran up behind the others, joining the fight. 

Newt and Minho threw their bodies against two Grievers on the right wall, and Frypan took the one of the left. Heaving and groaning, the boys on both sides pushed even harder knowing that help had arrived. They fought desperately to keep the Grievers pinned against the walls, while also trying to avoid the swinging blades on their claws. 

"THEY'RE ALMOST TO THE HOLE!" Minho said through his gritted teeth, encouraging the others, "JUST A LITTLE LONGER!" 

Newt looked up, trying to catch a glimpse. Through the struggling and flailing bodies of both Gladers and Grievers, Newt spotted the trio at the edge of the cliff. He could see Teresa jump off the cliff, and Chuck turn back to Thomas with a shocked face. She'd vanished into thin air. 

Another screamed filled the air, drawing Newt's glance away for a moment. Just a few feet away from him, the Griever's claw and sank into the shoulder and neck of someone...Pete, Newt was pretty sure. Newt cringed at the sound of his gurgled cries, pushing against the Griever with more force as the boy fell to the ground, choking. 

Newt frantically looked back towards the hole, just in time to see Chuck being thrown into it. And then Thomas, after a moment's hesitation, followed suit and jumped. Newt watched his body fall towards the hole, slowing fading away from his feet to his head. Then, he was gone.

They made it inside.


	37. Lab (Newt's POV)

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE/BLOOD**

"THEY'RE IN!" Newt shouted as he watched Thomas disappear into the air beyond the cliff. Knowing that the trio was now safely inside the hole, Newt quickly turned his attention back to the Grievers. He grunted as he drove his blade into the flesh of the Griever that Minho and two others had pinned against the wall. The creature screeched, letting out pained wails as Newt drove the machete even deeper. 

Suddenly, the Griever started to twitch, as if malfunctioning, sending it into wild thrashes as it fell to the ground. The Gladers all jumped back quickly, avoiding the claws of the beast that sliced the air in front of them. 

"The bugger just won't die!" Newt shouted as he reached out and snatched his weapon. 

Minho spoke between his heavy breathes. "We'll just have t-" 

His voice was cut off with a surprised cry as a Griever grabbed Minho from behind and began to drag him across the ground. Newt turned and reached out to grab his hand, but he wasn't fast enough.

Minho yelled as he rolled onto his back and tried to pry away the claw that held both of his feet. But his hands just seemed to slide right off with every attempt. 

Newt ran towards the Griever, clutching his weapon tightly in his hand. He ducked and dodged other Gladers and creatures, keeping his eyes locked on Minho. "Hold on, Min!" Newt shouted, pushing himself to run even faster when he realized the Griever had turned to run, dragging Minho with it.

They both held out their hands, about to lock them together when something hard send Newt plummeting to the ground. He let out a shrill cry of pain as it landed on top of him, right on his bad leg.

The force sent the side of Newt's head crashing into the stone below with a loud thud. Newt howled in pain as the impact sent heavy waves through his head. It was almost unbearable at first, and Newt's vision blurred in and out as he desperately tried not to black out. The whole world around him was spinning far too quickly. 

But even through his dazed state, Newt could tell what landed on him when he went to shift his legs. He wanted to be sick. It was a _body_. And they weren't alive anymore. 

A Griever had probably pierced another Glader and tossed it in Newt's path, pinning him to the ground. Newt froze for a moment, trying to hold down the bile in his throat. He tried to move, placing his arms underneath him and pushing straight up. 

It took almost all of his strength, but Newt was able to escape from under the body. He didn't have the heart to look and see whose it was. With wobbly legs and one hell of a headache, Newt stood, bringing a hand to his head as he tried to steady his vision. It hurt everywhere. 

"NEWT!" Minho's voice made its way to Newt's ears, sending more painful pangs to his head. Newt spotted Minho quickly, in the grasp of both claws of a Griever. The keeper was squirming like a fish out of water, using all his might in attempt to escape the creature's grasp. Newt ran, tripping every few steps, as his vision finally began to clear. 

By the time he reached Minho, the dizziness was gone and the loud pain in Newt's head had decreased to a dull murmur, replaced with adrenaline. But a panic filled his mind as he saw that Minho was only seconds away from being impaled by the large, sharp blades poking out of the Griever's front end. _Not Minho_ , Newt frantically thought as he took his last few steps towards the metallic creature. 

Wasting no time, Newt launched himself onto the Griever's body, right where its arms met its shoulders. He shoved his weapon down onto the arm, and began to pull it away from the Griever's body. He was trying to pry the arm completely off. At the sight of Minho in danger, Newt's strength and will almost doubled as he yanked even harder at the socket. 

The claw didn't come off the body, but Newt's prying was enough for the Griever to loosen its grip on Minho. The boy fell to the ground and landed on his back as the creature suddenly reared back and stroked Newt across the face with its claw. Newt cried out in surprise as he found himself falling to the ground once again, the Griever right on top of him. 

The beast positioned itself so that Minho couldn't approach, wrapping a claw around his arm. Minho didn't even seem to notice, he was too busy watching the Griever hover over Newt with its other claws suspended just over his face. That's when the Griever started to lower its blades directly towards Newt's chest. And at the sight, Newt's breathe picked up as he kicked and squirmed to escape. It wouldn't budge. 

"NEWT!" Minho cried as he desperately tried to shove past the Griever's back legs. He was on his knees, prying at the metal appendages with both hands. His stomach turned when he spotted the blades, falling directly towards Newt. 

He wasn't getting out of this. Newt _knew_ he wasn't getting out. This was it. 

The Griever's strength was too much, and neither Newt nor Minho could overcome it. Realizing this, Newt looked over at Minho, who was staring back at him with the most terrified eyes he'd ever seen. "Min..." Newt said as he strained his neck to keep facing his friend. "I-"

"Newt?!" Minho cried, a single tear falling down his face as he pried even harder at the claw around his arm. He was still trapped behind the Griever, forced to look underneath its stomach to see Newt. His motions were becoming more frantic and violent. "SOMEONE, HELP!"

Even though he continued to fight with his body, Newt closed his eyes, not wanting to see the end. And when he did he saw Minho...and Alby, Zart, Frypan, Clint, Winston, Jeff, Chuck, Teresa. And then Thomas. His family. _At least they'll be safe,_ He thought to himself, _At least the people I love will all be together._

As if on cue, the Griever raised its body slightly, before driving it back down with the blades pointed towards Newt. 

"NOOO!" Minho screamed. 

Newt waited for the impact. 

He waited. 

And waited. 

But it never came. The tight metal grip around Newt was suddenly gone, and a heavy silence hung in the air. Slowly, Newt opened his eyes, only to gasp at the sight. The blades of the Griever sat _inches_ above Newt's chest, unmoving. That's when Newt realized the creature wasn't moving at all. In fact, none of them were. 

Every single Griever had suddenly stilled, freezing in whatever position they were in. While trying to control his breathing, Newt slowly slid out from under the metallic body with his eyes not leaving the blades. 

"Oh my god..." A voice finally drew his eyes away. "Newt!" 

Newt locked eyes with the owner of the voice, his eyes filling with tears at the sight. "Minho..." Newt choked as they both ran into an embrace. 

"Newt, I..." Minho said with very shaky breathes. "I thought...I thought you were gonna-" 

"It's okay," Newt said, not sure whether it was more for Minho or more for him. His hands were trembling, and his heart was pounding so loudly he was surprised nobody else could hear it. "I'm okay." 

"Shuck..." Minho muttered, not letting go. He was shaking too. 

Neither of them knew how long it was until they pulled apart, tears running down both their faces. And for the first time, they both took in the devastation that surrounded them. It was a bloodbath. 

Bodies of both Gladers and Grievers were strewn across the ground, twisted and contorted into impossible positions. The ground was soaked with blood, as well as the walls. It was certainly a scene that Newt would never be able to forget. And despite how much he didn't want to, Newt counted the lifeless bodies as he stumbled towards the cliff. Every single one sent a dagger through his heart. 

Almost half of their group. Dead. 

The others who were still standing did the same as Newt and Minho, quietly making their way over towards the Griever hole. Minho stayed with Newt, wearing just as much pain on his face as everyone else. This was all so wrong. 

Who would _do_ this? To children? This was sick. This was so, so sick.

Newt blinked back more tears, purposefully avoiding the gaze of the lifeless faces on the ground. But he let them fall when he walked past Alby's body, or what was left of it. Minho had to lightly push Newt forward to keep him moving.

To their left, Winston was helping Frypan off the ground. They were both covered head to toe in red gashes and black bruises. Both of them joined Newt and Minho as the walked past, giving them the same sad look of understanding. Nobody knew what to feel. Fear of what lies ahead? Guilt and sadness for those who've died? Or relief that Thomas, Teresa, and Chuck figured out the code? Or maybe even a combination of the three. 

"Okay," Newt said, his voice cracking as he spoke. He walked up to the edge of the cliff and turned to face the other Gladers. "Everyone through the hole." With a hand, he gestured towards the space just a few feet beyond the cliff, where a few vines were still leading into the hole to show where it was. 

One by one, the Gladers walked by Newt and Minho, jumping through the hole. Some shared a sad or exhausted look with Newt was they passed, while others simply stared ahead, their eyes glassed over and their faces expressionless. Frypan gave both Minho and Newt a firm and reassuring pat on the shoulder as he passed, wearing a face that said _Here's to a new beginning._

Then Minho followed, jumping into the hole with ease despite the pain that surged through his body. Once he vanished into the air, Newt took his spot and ran directly towards the cliff. He had to bring a hand to his head as the pain came crawling back from when he fell to the ground. His adrenaline was starting to fade away, all remaining energy leaving his body. 

With a graceful leap, Newt flew off the cliff without looking back. He fell through the hole almost immediately, a cold chill passing through him as he did. He almost collapsed on the floor that appeared beneath him, barely able to hold himself up any longer. But something else did instead. 

"Thank you," A voice breathed into his ear. Through the haze that was forming in his vision, it took Newt a few moments to realize he was in someone's arms. "Thank you, thank you." 

It was Thomas. 

At the realization, Newt wrapped his arms around Thomas's chest tighter than he ever had before. He buried his face in the crook of Thomas' neck, Thomas doing the same to him as he brought a hand through Newt's hair. "Tommy," Newt whispered as they held each other. 

"I was so scared I lost you," Thomas murmured back into Newt's hair. 

Newt smiled, still out of breathe from the fight. He raised his arms and wrapped them around Thomas' neck, embracing what he thought he'd never see again. But now they were both here, in each other's arms. Alive.

The blonde let a small laugh into Thomas' shoulder. "You can't get rid of me _that_ easily." 

Thomas laughed in relief, but it quickly faded as Newt hissed in pain and pulled away, bringing a hand to the side of his head. The pain was back full force now. 

"You're bleeding," Thomas said as his wide eyes stared at Newt's head, the color draining from his face. He reached out to help, but Newt pushed his hand away with a determined look on his face. 

"Not now," Newt said, frowning as another wave of pain hit his head. "It can wait. I just want to get out of here." 

Thomas, who didn't look convinced at all, nodded and turned to walked towards the rest of the group. Although Newt didn't need it, he let Thomas grab hold of his upper arm to guide him forward. Newt didn't say anything. 

When they joined the group, the murmurs that were fluttering around the room had stopped. Everyone's eyes fell on Thomas, waiting to know what they needed to do next. But at the sight of the group, Thomas' heart dropped. "What happened?" He asked quietly.

Everyone knew what he meant, but nobody wanted to answer. A minute passed before Newt spoke up in a defeated voice. "Half of us," He breathed, "Dead." 

Thomas felt a pang of guilt flow through his body. He just led over twenty people to their deaths.

But Minho spoke before Thomas could answer. "Yeah, half of us died. But half of us also shucking _lived_. It was a mess out there...and then everything just shut down. I still can't believe it but your code actually worked...but now it's time to get out of here."

"We need to go through there, I think," Thomas stuttered, pointing to a hole in the wall on the far side of the room. It took everything he had to hold himself together in front of everyone. The room had almost no lights, filling the tunnel with pitch black darkness. The other's eyes followed Thomas' hand, landing on the opening. 

"I'll go first," Teresa immediately volunteered, walking up to the wall. She gave Thomas a pat on the shoulder as he passed, keeping her eyes on the hole. Without hesitation, she jumped in, feet first, and became swallowed by the darkness. 

The Gladers jumped when Teresa yelled, but quickly relaxed when they made out her words. "IT'S A SLIDE!" 

And just as they had before, the Gladers lined up in a single-file line, jumping into the hole. Echoes of screams and yells filled the room as more and more of them entered the darkness. 

Newt and Thomas were near the back, Newt still pressing his hand against his head. Despite the pain, his vision cleared, and he was able to see the room clearly for the first time. It was...eerie. 

The walls were covered with black gunk, all of which was completely covered in slime. The only lights in the room were some green ones that were lined up at the top of the walls. The faint lights bounced off the slime-covered compartments that along the floor. They looked like large, empty pods that would be used to hold something. Probably a resting Griever. 

Newt shook his head at the smell. It was even worse than the bathrooms back in the Glade. And the worst part was that it was _hot_. He'd only been in there a few minutes and Newt could already feel all of the beads of sweat dripping down his back. He couldn't wait to get out of there. 

When Chuck went to leave, Newt reached out to him. "You alright there, Chuckie?" He asked.

Chuck turned back to look at him, his face pale and expressionless. But Newt was more than relieved to see that he didn't have any injuries other than a few small cuts on his arms and face. "Yeah, I think so."

Newt gave him a weak smile. "Good that," He said, gesturing towards the slide, "We're right behind you."

Once Chuck was gone, only Thomas and Newt remained. "You go," Thomas said blankly, nodding towards the hole. "I'll catch up." 

Newt nodded, stepping up to place his feet in the hole. He looked back at Thomas one final time before pushing off, sending his body shooting down the narrow tunnel. 

The slide was absolutely disgusting. 

Just like the walls in the last room, the tunnel was coated with a thick layer of slime. And it was so hot, that it was almost impossible to breathe as Newt slid down lower. Newt was probably only on it for a minute, but to him it felt like an hour. 

Eventually he tumbled out the end and landed on the ground, followed by Thomas not long after. As he fell, Thomas quickly leaned to the side, to avoid landing on top of Newt.

He landed with a groan, and stood first to offer Newt a hand. Newt gladly took it, still a little disoriented from coming down the slide. People around them coughed and retched, brushing the slime off of their bodies. The smell wasn't as bad anymore, but it was still enough to quickly drive everyone out the room.

They ended up in a hallway. A long, dimly-lit corridor that led down to a single exit. The group walked together in silence, tightly packed and watching every direction. They were out of the maze, but none of them had any clue what to expect next. It was better to be alert.

When they reached the door, Thomas walked up to it and placed his hand on the doorknob. With one final nervous look towards the group, he turned the knob and pushed the door open, quickly backing away. 

There were white lights all along the ceiling, most of them flickering on and off because of the cracks that covered them. Wires hung from broken lights, looking like vines hanging from the walls. Broken glass covered the ground and tables, shimmering every time the light from the rotating yellow alarms in the room hit them. 

Screens and monitors were plastered along the walls and tables, most of them black and out of power. In the far corners of the room, there were these strange tubes filled with liquid that stretched all the way from the ceiling to the floor. 

Newt didn't even notice the bodies at first. 

Dozens of people laid across the ground, hunched over in chairs, and face-down on tables. They all wore white lab-coats, with sprays and splatters of red all over them. It had to be blood. 

But what bothered Newt the most was the single word printed on the wall above the monitors. A chill ran down his spine as he read it. It was a word that he'd seen before. 

**W.I.C.K.E.D.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a little late again. I was behind and didn't want to rush it! But anyways...this is really coming to an end soon! AHHH! If everything goes as planned, there are only two chapters left!!!!!! Happy reading


	38. Goodbye

Thomas knew this place. He remembered it so clearly now, even though he wished he didn't.

Cautiously, with his feet crunching the glass shards on the ground with every step, Thomas made his way over to the center of the room. A few rows of tables were arranged in a circle, with a platform in the center. Beyond the platform was a glass wall, containing what appeared to be a separate office. 

The others followed quietly behind him, not sure what to do next. Newt did the same, walking from the back of the cluster to the front. He didn't even notice how much he was gravitating towards Thomas until they were right next to each other. Their fingers brushed against each other a few times as they walked. Without even turning around, Thomas sensed Newt when he approached, and he was thankful for it. Being closer to him really calmed him down. 

Everyone continued to shuffle behind Thomas until he came to a sudden stop in front of a desk. His eyes grew wide as they darted from the monitor, to the chair, to the computer, and to the keyboard. A tentative hand reached out, brushing the dust that had collected on the keyboard. Thomas tensed as he looked to the floor beneath where the chair currently sat. That's right were he sat as he watched Newt's accident unfold. 

"What is it?" Newt asked in a hushed voice, leaning in towards Thomas' ear. He didn't have to even touch Thomas to feel the tension that had grown inside his body. 

Thomas blinked a few times, shaking his head. "It's, uh...my desk. And Teresa's there," Thomas added as he raised a hand and pointed to a desk on the opposite side of the room. 

Thomas could hear Teresa sigh from behind him. "I had a feeling this place was familiar," She said in a voice full of sadness. 

"Oh," Newt said, not knowing what else to say. Not wanting to linger, he added, "Let's keep moving." 

Thomas nodded and started to turn, but something on his desk caught his eye. There was a small, blue flashing button at the end of his keyboard. He remembered seeing it before, but never while it was on. On instinct, Thomas reached over and pressed the button. As he released it, the blue light inside of it turned to red, and something behind the group clicked. 

Everyone's heads shot around so quickly, that it was lucky nobody sprained their necks in the process. But, they all relaxed upon seeing that it was the large monitor turning on, and not a person. 

"Woah," Chuck gasped as the screen came to life before their eyes. As the pixelation faded away, the image of a woman's face appeared on the screen. Her skin was pale against the white labcoat she wore, with her blonde hair in a tight bun. She was older, but it was hard to guess her age. 

"Hello," The woman spoke, Thomas doing a double take at the sound of her voice. He knew that voice. He didn't remember how he knew it, or who its owner was, but he was sure that he'd seen her before. 

"If you are watching this, then you have successfully completed the maze trials," The woman continued, her face expressionless. "You probably have many questions. But _I'm_ here to tell you why _you're_ here. You're special." 

The group stood, unmoving. Their eyes were all glued to the screen, except Minho's. He was too busying rolling them in frustration, wanting her to just get to the point. 

"Years ago, the sun scorched our world. Solar flares burned our lands to a crisp, leaving only a small handful of survivors. But that's not the worst of it, because after that came the Flare." The woman described. 

_The Flare_. Words that everyone had heard before, from people who went through the Changing like Alby. But no matter how many times they mentioned it in the Glade, it never felt real until now. 

"It's a terrible virus that overtakes the mind, causing one to lose control, and eventually die. But you," The woman pointed to the screen as she spoke, "you all could be the answer. The _solution_ to this problem." Suddenly, loud explosions and bangs shot out from the speakers. People behind the woman ran around in a blind panic, throwing both papers and themselves across the room. Keeping his eyes on the screen, Newt reached over and locked his hand tightly with Thomas'. 

"In the maze trials, your brain patterns were all analyzed and monitored. This was all done in attempt to gain insight as to why you're so different." The gunfire in the video grew louder as soldiers began to break into her office in the background. Some of the Gladers gasped as they saw the woman raise a loaded pistol to the side of her head. She cocked the gun, saying one final phrase before pulling the trigger. As she spoke, Thomas quickly reached over and covered Chuck's eyes with his free hand. "You're our only hope." 

And then she pulled the trigger. As her body fell, the soldiers stormed into the room, firearms all aimed towards her. Everyone else in the background was dead, laying just where they were now. Then the screen flickered and went black. A heavy silence filled the room at first, most of the Gladers still processing what just happened.

"She said we're special..." Newt trailed off, replaying the woman's words inside his head. 

"But what's so special about _us_?" Minho asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. His skeptical expression matched his tone perfectly. "I sure don't feel special." 

Thomas' brow furrowed as he entered into deep thought. He tried pulling together pieces from the video and what he remembered from the Changing, but something was still missing. Something major. He remembered that WICKED had something planned for them, and that they were all very important. But he had no clue as to why. "Maybe we-" 

The sound of glass crunching on the ground on the other side of the room cut Thomas off, sending every spinning back towards the door they'd entered from. But what Thomas all saw couldn't possibly be real....could it? He was staring at a ghost. 

"Gally..." Thomas gasped, staring at the boy as he loaded a magazine into a small handgun. Gally didn't hesitate to cock the weapon, turning the safety off, and pointing it straight towards the group. "How? You were missing for _days_..."

Gally's face wrinkled. It looked as though he was trying to say something, but he wasn't able to. Thomas looked down to see both his hands were shaking, while labored breathes escaped through his clenched teeth. 

"Gally," Newt said warily, clearly noticing the same behaviors as Thomas, "What's going on?" 

"T-they're controlling m-me..." Gally said in a pained voice. Thomas could've sworn he saw tears forming in his eyes. "I...have...to..."

As if on cue, Gally's arm began to raise, trembling even more than it was before. Gally stared at it, watching the gun as if he wasn't the one holding it. And when it stopped, the barrel of the pistol was pointing straight at Thomas' chest. 

"Gally..." Minho warned, instinctively taking a few steps forward. 

"I..." Gally said before he suddenly groaned in pain and clutched his head with his free hand. He took a step forward, his finger tightening around the trigger.

Thomas didn't have any time to react once he saw Gally's finger move to the trigger. His mind was screaming at him to move, but not matter how many times he tried, he froze. That's when a loud boom seemed to shake the entire room. 

When the ringing in his ears stopped, Thomas paused as he took in his surroundings. He was on the ground, laying in front of the group. But how did he get there? Thomas turned on his back, facing the spot where he was just standing, what's left of his heart breaking into pieces. 

Chuck. 

It was Chuck. 

_Chuck was standing there with a bullet hole in the center of his chest._

"Thomas..." Chuck said, his eyes wide in horror. He brought a shaky hand to his chest, and he pulled it back to see it covered in bright red blood. 

"Chuck," Thomas gasped, leaping to his feet to kneel next to the injured boy. He made it to his side just in time to catch his falling body. "Oh my god, Chuck." 

Chuck's body began to convulse and thrash in Thomas' arms. "No, no, no, Chuck please!" Thomas begged, his vision blurring with tears at the sound of Chuck's pained whimpers. This couldn't be happening. Not after everything. They escaped the maze, they were free. _They were free_. 

"Chuck," Thomas choked, shaking Chuck to keep him from slipping away. He pressed his hands down onto the bleeding wound with all his strength, trying to keep any more blood from flooding out. It wasn't working. "Please don't die...just hold on, bud. Stay with me." 

"Thom...as." Chuck said again, with much less strength in his voice this time. It took everything he had to stay awake. 

" _Someone get help!_ " Thomas shrieked. But nobody moved. Everyone stood right where they were, tears silently falling down their faces. They knew there was nothing they could do for him now, there was just too much blood. 

"Find...my p-parents, Thomas," Chuck cried, his eyes glassing over. He lifted a fist and weakly dropped something into Thomas' waiting hand. Thomas lost it again when he realized it was the wooden totem he'd carved for his parents. The one Chuck planned to give to his parents himself. "Tell them-" 

Chuck never finished his sentence. As he spoke the remaining bits of life in him faded away, his body becoming limp. Thomas shook his head, squeezing him even harder. "Chuck..." 

Thomas was so worked up that he didn't even feel Newt's hands on his shoulders. Didn't hear his voice. 

"Tommy..." Newt whispered.

No response. 

With gentle hands, Newt raised his hands to Thomas' head and turned his face towards his own. Heartbreak flooded both of their eyes. "Thomas," Newt said again, his voice cracking, "He's gone." 

_He's gone_. Those words filled Thomas' mind, turning his emotions from sadness to pure rage. Chuck was gone, and it was _all Gally's fault_. Adrenaline surged through his veins as Thomas glanced over from Newt's eyes over to Gally's. The boy was standing there, shaking, staring at the lifeless body of Chuck on the ground.

"You..." Thomas muttered as he suddenly leaped to his feet and dashed straight towards Gally. 

Something clicked inside Thomas. Something bad. Even Gally was taken aback, unresponsive at first as Thomas wrapped a tight hand on his shoulder. Just after the first major blow, Thomas had him on the ground. He threw even more punches at Gally's face, putting more and more force behind each swing. He held _nothing_ back. 

At first, nobody did anything to stop him. Newt watched with horrified eyes as Thomas punched Gally in the face again and again without tiring. His fists were dark red, smothered in both Chuck's and Gally's blood. And his eyes...they were so... _dark_. Newt had never seen such a wild and furious look in Thomas' eyes before, and it shook him to the core.

But the sight of Gally's limp body on the ground snapped Newt out of his trance. He had fought back at first, but quickly lost consciousness after taking five or six direct hits to the temple from Thomas. Only seconds had passed, but large black and blue patches were already starting to form on Gally's face. He was barely recognizable now. 

Newt was on Thomas just moments later, desperately trying to pull him away. "Tommy! Stop it!" 

Thomas only grunted in response, taking another swing at Gally's right eye. He frantically thrashed his shoulders around as Newt wrapped two strong hands on his upper arms. "Let go of m-" 

"NO!" Newt shouted before Thomas could finish. "You have to stop!" 

Thomas struggled against Newt's grip again, his attempts growing weaker as he stared at the damage he'd done to Gally's face. The poor boy was motionless on the ground, his eyes swollen shut. Nobody could even tell whether Gally was still breathing. For all they knew, he was dead. At the sight, Thomas' body collapsed, all of his strength gone. 

Newt caught him, falling to his knees with him. Without pause, he wrapped both his arms around Thomas tightly. Thomas turned his body so that they were facing each other, not able to hold back his tears any longer. 

Thomas wailed into Newt's shoulder, the pained sounds in his cries causing Newt to tear up as well. Chuck didn't deserve this. He'd survived the assault by the Grievers and got out of the maze, only to be shot in the chest a few yards away from the exit. 

Suddenly, a loud crash shook the room, causing the lights to crack and flicker on and off. Another alarm began to sound in the room, yellow lights flashing along each wall. On the far side of the room, the wall had burst open, debris from the explosion scattered across the floor. There were shadows in the smoke...and nobody registered what they were until they reached the room. 

People....soldiers.

Men and women dressed head to toe in green and black entered, sweeping the room with guns as they entered. They quickly spotted the children and surrounded them on all sides. 

"LET'S GET THEM OUTTA HERE!" One of them shouted, waving a hand towards the smoking hole in the wall. 

The others quickly holstered their weapons and went to grab the kids by the arm. Some, including Minho, struggled against their grip. They had no idea who these people were. It's true that they could be actual soldiers saving them...but what if they were with WICKED? 

As the other Gladers were escorted out of the room, Newt and Thomas remained on the ground. Thomas' entire body was shaking as he clung to Newt's shirt. His throat was starting to burn from his screams and cries, but he didn't stop. _Couldn't_ stop. He was so lost in his mind that he didn't even notice all of the commotion going on around him. 

Newt, who'd seen the soldiers come in and start to take his friends outside, quickly tried to get Thomas to stand. He pulled back and put two steadying hands on Thomas' shoulders. Thomas' head was sitting up straight, but his eyes were glued to something over Newt's shoulder. He didn't have to turn to know it was Chuck's body. "Tommy...Tommy we have to go now." 

"I..." Thomas choked, still crying, "I p-promised him." 

"Thom-" 

"I PROMISED HIM!" Thomas shouted, more tears falling. "I TOLD HIM I'D GET HIM OUT!" 

Newt began to cry again as well. He pulled a hand away to wipe his face before standing. "Tommy," He said softly, reaching down underneath Thomas' arms. He tried to pull the boy up, but Thomas slumped his body over and fell back to the ground. "...Please." 

Large hands suddenly wrapping around Newt's shoulders caused him to jump and turn back, only to look into the face of an older woman's stern face. "Move!" She shouted, pulling Newt away from Thomas and towards the exit. 

"Wait," Newt shifted, turning to look back at Thomas. "Tommy!" 

When he looked, Newt saw two more soldiers picking Thomas up off the ground, each one dragging him by an arm. Thomas kicked and screamed as they passed Chuck's lifeless body, trying to break free of their tough grasp. 

"THOMAS!" Newt shouted, trying to get back to him. But it was no use. No matter how hard he pulled or how much he struggled, Newt wasn't able to break free. 

The pair both continued to shift and kick against the soldiers as they were dragged down a long hallway. Neither of them stopped until they spotted light shining in from the end, a light so bright that it was almost blinding. 

Newt started to run towards it, realizing what it was. It was the world. The _real_ world, outside of this stone prison. They were free. 

Once outside, the heat of the sun hit their bodies with extreme force. Neither of them had ever felt heat like this before. But they kept running, following the others, until they reached a large bus. As they arrived, the other Gladers were being loaded onto the vehicle one at a time, the soldiers remaining outside and scanning the perimeter with their weapons. 

When it was Newt's turn to get on the bus, he took a few steps in and turned around towards Thomas. He reached out and grabbed his shaking hand, pulling him up the stairs behind him. Newt guided him to the open seat across from Minho, who sat next to Teresa. Both of them wore looks of exhaustion, worry, and confusion on their faces. 

Thomas sat down first, and then Newt. 

Thankfully, Thomas had stopped crying, but he still looked like a complete mess. "Look at me, Tommy," Newt whispered, brushing the messy hair out of Thomas' face. 

Thomas slowly glanced up at him, his eyes full of pain. He said nothing, not even when the bus sputtered to life and started to move forwards. 

" _None_ of us would've ever made it out of there without you," Newt said, a single tear falling down his face. "Do you understand that?" 

Thomas stared at him for a moment, his eyes narrowing just slightly. He nodded. 

"Good that," Newt said, looking aside to wipe away the tears that fell down his face. "Come here." 

Before Thomas could respond, Newt wrapped his left arm around Thomas' shoulders, pulling him in and closing the distance between them. Thomas quickly scooted in closer, burying his face into the crook of Newt's neck and wrapping both of his arms firmly around his torso. 

All the other Gladers sat there for a while, staring out the window, or staring at nothing. But they were all silent. Newt sighed in relief as he eventually felt Thomas' body begin to relax a little bit underneath his own. His body finally stopped shaking, and his grip around Newt loosened slightly as he slipped into a light sleep. 

Newt leaned down slowly, trying his best not to disturb the sleeping boy, and planted the lightest kiss on top of his head. Thomas stirred, but didn't wake up. Newt gave him a gentle smile, rubbing a soothing hand along his back. 

A few minutes passed and Newt looked over towards Minho, finding both him and Teresa asleep as well. Teresa leaned her head against the window, and Minho had fallen over to the side, his head resting on Teresa's shoulder. 

Newt breathed out a small laugh at the sight before turning back to Thomas. A small sense of hope flooded through him. He was safe. Thomas was safe. Minho and Teresa were safe. Everyone here was safe now.

Yes, they lost people along the way. A lot of good and innocent people. But they didn't go down without a fight, and they fought to help the others escape. And now that the surviving Gladers were free, the other's deaths were no longer in vain. 

For the first time any of the Gladers could remember, they didn't need to run anymore. 

They were finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge mixture of book ending and movie ending here. Felt like I couldn't just do one or the other...
> 
> But WOW only one more chapter to go after this????????? Also sorry for what is probably the third late update in a row...busy week.


	39. Freedom

The bus drove on for almost two hours before pulling over to a stop. The soldiers, who'd seated themselves at the front of the bus, all stood in unison and exited the vehicle with their weapons drawn. 

A majority of the Gladers had fallen asleep during the ride, but they were all shaken awake by the booming voice that suddenly filled the bus. 

"EVERYONE UP!" A woman shouted from the front, her hands cupped around her mouth. 

Newt sat up from where he'd fallen asleep against Thomas, and stood. Thomas did the same, interlocking their fingers as they made their way into the aisle. Newt gave Thomas' hand a quick squeeze as they approached the door of the bus. None of them had any idea what was waiting for them on the other side of it. 

Outside, the sun had set, painting the sky a deep blue. There wasn't a cloud in sight, allowing the stars to shine even brighter. But even with the sun out of sight, the heat from the day was still just as strong, taking the Gladers by surprise as they stepped off the air-conditioned bus. Thomas and Newt were some of the last to exit, followed by Minho and Teresa.

Just like in the maze, the soldiers ushered all of the children out in a single file line. Only this time, they were being led to a strangely-shaped building. 

As Thomas drew closer to the propped-open doors, he turned around and spotted Minho walking right behind him. Minho caught his eye and gave him a reassuring look, with only the slightest hint of caution. This let Thomas relax a little. Minho had excellent intuition, and if he thought this place was safe, then so did Thomas. 

Once inside, Thomas noticed a small crowd of Gladers forming in the front circular room. Thomas walked off to the side of the group, pulling Newt with him. Something, Thomas couldn't see what, had made everyone to freeze in their tracks. His body tensed as he rounded the last few people, expecting the worst. But then he saw it, and froze just like the others. 

Food. _Real_ food. 

Pizzas, fruits, vegetables, sandwiches, and desserts were all strewn across a long table. A few more seconds of stunned silence passed before the group charged forward, their hunger taking the best of them. With low supplies in the Glade for the last week, none of the Gladers could remember the last time they'd eaten a full meal. 

Everyone was so busy stuffing their mouths with as much food as they could, that nobody talked at first. But there was a content mood circling through the group, and it felt nice. As some time passed, small conversations began to develop around the table. Everyone was so engrossed with their food that they didn't even notice the doors they'd entered from being shut and locked by the soldiers outside.

Thomas, however, kept quiet as he played with the remaining food on his plate with a fork. Newt was just happy that Thomas ate something. It took over five minutes of coaxing to actually get him to eat some food. 

Growing worried about Thomas, Newt nudged Minho in the shoulder with his elbow, with a little too much force. When Minho gave him a confused look, Newt frowned and nodded towards Thomas discreetly. Minho followed his gaze, nodding in understanding at the sight of Thomas' sad expression. 

Newt raised his eyebrows at Minho as he saw a sly look grow on his face. He had an idea. And as Minho slowly dipped his hand into the pudding on his plate, Newt had a feeling of what that idea might be. Newt smiled and shook his head, giving Minho a look that said _You've got to be joking._

Minho rolled his eyes and scanned the table, looking for his target. Newt nudged him again, nodding towards Frypan. The boy was currently too distracted by the sandwich in his hands to notice anything else around him. Minho saw this as well, and stealthily pulled back his hand. He took a few seconds to aim his hand before he flicked his pudding across the table and right onto Frypan's face. 

Bunches of "Ooooh's" filled the room as Frypan looked up from his food, surveying the damage. That's when he spotted Minho's pudding-covered hands.

"Oh, Minho," Frypan said in a calm voice, wiping the pudding off of his face with his wrist. "You should know better than to challenge the _master_." 

"Master? Please," Minho scoffed, standing up so quickly that his chair tipped over and clattered to the ground behind him. He even bent over slightly with his arms out in front of him, ready to dodge anything thrown at him. 

Frypan shrugged, scooping up food from his tray in both of his hands. He stood as well. "This is your last chance to apologize..."

"Now I'm starting to think you're too scared," Minho taunted, snatching up more food as well. 

Minho barely finished his sentence before an entire vine of grapes hit him square in the face. He laughed, shaking his head. "It's on, now," Minho declared as he wound up his arm and sent more food flying towards Frpyan. 

Cheers and laughs erupted from the table as other Gladers began to join in, grabbing the food from their plates and sending them flying across the table. Newt didn't join in until Winston struck him on the shoulder with some pasta. He stood, grabbing a leftover slice of pizza from the center of the table. 

Newt looked over at Thomas, who was still sitting down at his side, and smacked the pizza right into his shirt. Thomas jerked back, jumping out of his thoughts. He looked up at Newt with a surprised face, only to find Newt laughing at him. 

Temporarily pulled away from his sad thoughts, Thomas peeled the pizza off of his shirt and didn't hesitate in sending it straight into Newt's face. Newt quickly pawed at the slice, which only led to himself spreading grease and sauce all over his cheeks and forehead. But, he didn't mind. The smile that shined on Thomas' face was worth it. 

"Thomas, think fast!" Minho shouted as he launched a handful of mashed potatoes in his direction. 

But Thomas' reflexes weren't nearly fast enough. Almost immediately, his entire upper body was splattered with potatoes. He tried to brush it off, smearing it all over his clothes in the process. As he finished, Thomas looked up just in time to see Newt and Minho high-five, smiling back at Thomas. They'd pay for that one. 

As quickly as he could, Thomas practically lunged towards the table to scoop up some applesauce in his hand. But as he threw it, Newt and Minho dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding the food. The applesauce flew right over their heads and landed on someone else instead. Thomas took a few nervous steps back after seeing who it was. 

Teresa, who'd remained seated the entire time, was now coated head to toe with applesauce. 

She tensed, her body slowly turning to face her attacker. Her expression was menacing, and her tone was vengeful. _You shouldn't have done that, Tom._

Thomas didn't even notice that everyone else had stopped moving, after seeing the look on Teresa's face after being hit. "Oh man, Teresa I'm so-" 

Before he couldn't even finish his apology, Thomas was met with a face full of yogurt. Laughter burst out of the group as Teresa proudly wiped her hands on her pants. Unable to open his eyes, Thomas frantically reached up and wiped the yogurt away enough for him to see. The rest remained on his face. 

"Wow, Tommy, you look..." Newt started, trying to hold back his laughter, "...great." 

A devious smile grew on Thomas' face as he opened his arms towards Newt. "Aw, how sweet. How about a hug?" 

Newt, seeing Thomas absolutely covered with potatoes and yogurt, tried to scramble away. But, he wasn't quick enough. Thomas wrapped both of his arms around Newt, pulling him into a tight embrace. The others laughed as Newt tried squirmed in Thomas' arms getting covered in food. Only after five requests did Thomas release him. 

As the night carried on, the Gladers were led to two bathrooms, Teresa getting her own bedroom and bathroom. Everyone took extra long showers before heading to bed. Not because of the food that covered them all from head to toe, but because of the warmth and cleanliness of a real shower. By now, it was a foreign topic for most of the boys. 

Newt kept a careful eye on Thomas after dinner. He still wore a small smile on his face after they'd finished their meal, but it slowly began to fade as they all prepared for bed. By the time he'd left the shower, Thomas was back to looking like he did when he first arrived here.

Newt waited in the bathroom as Thomas dried off in the shower until all the other Gladers had left for the bedroom. While he waited, he grabbed a new set of clothes that the soldiers had provided. He slipped on new socks, underwear, and pants. And just as Newt was slipping on the maroon t-shirt he'd picked out, Thomas stepped out of the shower, a black towel wrapped around his waist. 

Newt saw his face in the mirror and gave him a smile, but didn't receive one in return. He sighed and turned to face Thomas, leaning back against the counter. "It was nice seeing you smile earlier." 

Thomas looked up at him as he walked to the counter. Newt could see in his eyes that Thomas had something to say, but he didn't respond.

Newt scooted a little closer, trying to hide the sad look on his own face. "Please say something." 

Thomas sighed and dropped his hands to the edge of the counter, leaning on it for support. "What do you want me to say, Newt?" 

"I'm just worried about you," Newt said quietly, looking Thomas straight in the eyes.

"Newt," Thomas looked at him in disbelief, "People are dead. So many people died just a few hours ago...I think it's okay to be a little upset." 

Newt shook his head firmly. "Not like this. You're blaming yourself again." 

Thomas stared at him, but didn't answer. He snatched up the closest towel on the counter and started drying off his hair, keeping his head facing towards the mirror. He knew Newt was right.

Newt studied his movements, watching how Thomas' body grew more tense and how he began to avoid eye contact. He could tell that there was something else Thomas wasn't telling him. 

With a gentle hand, Newt reached up and rubbed Thomas's shoulder. "Tommy, what is it?" He asked. "You can tell me." 

Thomas sighed and dropped the towel he was using to dry his hair back onto the counter. He hung his head low for a moment before looking back up at Newt, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He answered in a quiet mutter. "It should've been me." 

"What are yo-" Newt started. 

"Chuck didn't deserve to die like that. Gally was aiming the gun at _me_ ," Thomas said, tears now running down his face. "I promised Chuck that I would get him out of the maze. Get him back to his parents. And I failed him." 

Newt kept his hand on Thomas' shoulder, trying to soothe him. He listened intently, but didn't speak. 

"I feel like I've lost a b-brother," Thomas choked. He pulled his arms into himself, covering his mouth with one hand to stifle his cries. 

"Tommy," Newt almost whispered, "We've all lost people who were close to us."

Thomas spoke again, his voice hard. "Newt, I _promised_ him. I told him I'd get him out. We were just a few _feet_ away from the exit..."

"Tommy-" 

"...And then he was just taken away. When it should've been me." Thomas said, pulling away from Newt to face him. He could see the images of Chuck lying on the ground in his mind, his own blood covering his body. "You don't understand what that feels like." 

Newt stared at him with wide eyes as he let his hand fall back to his side. Anger boiled inside of him, and he made no attempt to hold any of it back. "Don't understand," Newt practically hissed, " _Don't understand?_ " 

Thomas took a step back at the menacing expression that had grown on Newt's face. The expression in his eyes had shifted from concern to ferocity in a matter of seconds, and the sight took Thomas aback slightly. 

"You don't think I know what that feels like?" Newt spat, pointing a finger at Thomas. "To lose someone and feel like it should've been you instead of them?" 

Thomas immediately began to regret his words. He hadn't seen Newt this angry since Thomas volunteered to be taken by Grievers at the last Gathering. Thomas, with an apologetic voice, quickly tried to speak. "Newt..."

"NO!" Newt shouted, taking a furious step forwards towards Thomas, both hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. "When I was in the maze, I climbed halfway up one of those bloody walls and jumped right off. When Alby found me, he could've left me. But he didn't. Instead, he carried me all the way back to the Glade and saved my life. Then, Alby goes and sacrifices himself to try and save the rest of us. I was the selfish one, yet I lived. He didn't." 

Thomas tried to speak again, but Newt wouldn't let him. 

"And when the Grievers came the night you and the runners stayed out in the maze, they grabbed me. They were going to take _me_. But Zart stopped the Grievers before they could get me, and then they took him away in my place. He didn't have to help me, but he did. And when they grabbed him, I tried to pull him back, but I couldn't save him," Newt said, tears now falling down his face as well. But the anger didn't subside. "I couldn't save either of them, Thomas." 

Thomas dropped his head again, defeated. "Newt, please-"

"But I don't blame myself," Newt said, his face changing slightly. "I feel awful about what happened but I don't blame myself because what they did was their own choice. Alby _chose_ to sacrifice himself in attempt to save us. Zart _chose_ to save me from the Grievers." 

Thomas gave up on trying to speak now, having no choice but to listen to Newt's words.

"...Chuck..." Newt lingered for a moment at that name, "...he _chose_ to take that bullet for you. He didn't have to, but that was the decision he made. So no, it wasn't your fault Thomas. No matter how much you think it was, it wasn't."

"Newt," Thomas said, louder this time. He wasn't going to let Newt speak over him anymore, not with what he needed to say. "I'm sorry, I-."

Newt shook his head, folding his arms tightly across his chest. It took everything he had not to react to the sorrow and regret that filled Thomas' eyes. He hated being mad at Thomas, he really did. Newt wanted nothing more than to sweep Thomas into his arms and embrace him, but he knew what Thomas needed to hear right now. "I just have one thing to say to you," Newt said with almost no emotion now. He was drained of it. "Don't bloody waste what he did for you, Tommy."

And with those words, Newt strode off towards the door. He disappeared for a moment, only to return in the doorway. "Here," He said quietly, tossing something towards Thomas. Thomas let them land on the floor. "I got you some clothes."

Then Newt was gone for good, leaving Thomas alone in the bathroom. He made his way to the dormitory, where all the other boys were either sleeping or just getting settled in. When Newt entered, it was dark. He only made it a few steps in before someone grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back towards the doorway. They both stood by the door, with enough light coming in from the center room that they could see each other's faces. It was Minho.

"What happened?" Minho asked quietly, keeping his hand on the place where he grabbed Newt's arm. "We could hear you yelling from all the way in here..."

Newt sighed. "It was nothing, Min. I'm just tired."

Minho could sense the hesitance in Newt's voice and, without warning, pulled the boy so that his face was directly in the light that was shining in the room. Minho's grip unconsciously tightened on Newt's arm as he spotted Newt's red swollen eyes and the dried streaks of tears that ran down his face. His breathe quickened as he realized what happened.

"I'll kill him," Minho whispered furiously, already pushing out the door and towards the bathroom.

"No, don't," Newt said, placing a firm hand on Minho's chest to stop him. "Please."

"But Newt-" Minho protested with a wild look of confusion on his face.

"I'm the one that got us both worked up," Newt said calmly. He wasn't even that angry at Thomas anymore. Newt was just trying to get him to understand that he doesn't need to be so hard on himself because of what happened, and that he wasn't alone. "He just needs some time."

Minho quietly groaned in annoyance, but relaxed at the truth in Newt's eyes. "Fine," He said, letting go of Newt's arm and taking a step back away from the door. "But are you sure you're okay?"

Newt couldn't help but give a very small smile at Minho's concern. He was always like this. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay," Minho said, turning to walk back towards the closest bunk bed. In one swift movement, he scaled to the top and sat on the edge. Newt could barely seem him through the darkness of the room. "Night, shank."

"Night, Min," Newt answered as he walked over to the same bunk, taking the bottom bed. He quietly slipped under the covers, facing his body towards the door. Then, he waited.

Thomas had brought both hands to his face as soon as the last sound of Newt's footsteps were gone, leaning his elbows against the counter. "Shuck," he groaned.

Newt was right. Thomas shouldn't blame himself for what happened, as much as he wanted to. Of course Thomas knew that feeling would never go away, considering he was still the one that helped put everyone in the maze. But once Thomas entered the Glade, everything else that happened didn't occur because of him. They occurred because of the choices that the Gladers made on their own. They didn't have to believe Thomas, or follow him, or fight with him. But they did, and they knew going in what the consequences could be. 

Even Chuck knew. At the thought of Chuck, Newt's words echoed through his mind. 

_Don't bloody waste what he did for you, Tommy._

Thomas sighed as he leaned back against the tile wall behind him, sliding to the ground until he sat with his knees tucked into himself. Almost as quickly, he wrapped both arms around his legs and let his head fall forward onto his arms. As he sat in silence, Thomas imagined Chuck sitting next to him. What he'd do, what he'd say. 

Thomas shrunk into himself even more as the picture of an angry Chuck filled his mind. Chuck would be furious with Thomas if he found out that Thomas blamed himself for what happened to him. Chuck made his own decision, and Thomas should've realized that. 

"I'm so sorry, Chuck," Thomas whispered. As soft as it was, his voice still managed to echo through the room. 

Thomas could hear Chuck's laughter in his head. A few tears ran down his face at the sight of the boy so happy. He'll miss him. He'll always miss him, and nothing will ever change that. But Thomas knew that in order to move on, he'd need to accept that Chuck's death wasn't his fault. Chuck died so that Thomas could live, and Thomas was not ready to let him down. 

Minutes, maybe even hours passed. Thomas didn't have a clue. He just sat, thinking about Chuck, the maze, the Gladers, the escape...Newt. He knew he needed to apologize, but he couldn't build up the courage to leave the bathroom. That's when a faint voice interrupted his thoughts. 

_Tom? Is everything okay? I heard yelling._

Thomas paused, his heart rate picking up for a moment by the sudden appearance of Teresa inside his mind. _Yes...no...I don't know. I messed up._

_With Newt?_ Teresa asked. There was some concern in her voice, but also something that made it sound like she knew that's what happened.

_Yeah,_ Thomas answered. 

_Do you want to talk about it?_

_No._

Teresa paused this time, trying to think of something to say. She knew that _she_ wasn't the person he needed to talk to. _Well maybe you should talk to_ him.

Thomas sighed as he rubbed his tired eyes. _I don't think he wants to see me..._

_He cares about you, Tom. More than you know. Just talk to him._

_But-_

Teresa cut Thomas off before he could speak, _Goodnight, Tom._ She didn't respond after that.

It took some more time, Thomas didn't know how long, to stand and put on the clothes that Newt had gotten for him. The pants fit okay, but the blue shirt was a little on the tight side. But Thomas was so tired, he didn't seem to care and went straight to the dormitory. 

Slowly, Thomas pushed the door open and stepped into the dorm. Light flooded the room and almost immediately, and Thomas spotted Newt laying on the first bunk. Thomas shut the door and shuffled over to the bunk, careful not to trip over anything. 

He knew he reached it when his legs hit the bottom of the bed, causing him to suck in a breathe of pain. Quickly, but quietly, Thomas sat down on the edge of the bed, just inches away from Newt. Thomas' eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark yet, but he could just make out the silhouette of Newt's head laying on the pillow. 

"I'm sorry," Thomas whispered as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Newt's head. "You were right, Newt, and I'm so sorry. I wish I could take my words back. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you, I hope you know that." 

Thomas paused as Newt stirred, but then continued. "I don't blame myself, Newt. My heart is telling me I should, but I don't anymore. And I'm not going to waste what Chuck did for me. What all the Gladers did for us. I promise."

Thomas waited a few seconds and then went to stand, but the sound of a voice stopped him. "Where do you think you're bloody going?" 

A sighed escaped Thomas' lips as they curved to form a smile. He back down, shaking his head. "You were supposed to be asleep." 

"Well, I was," Newt answered in a soft voice, "Until you opened the buggin' door and let all that light in." 

Thomas' smile grew for a moment. "Woops," He said, laying down under the blanket next to Newt. They both turned so that their bodies were facing one another. Through the darkness, they stared into each other's eyes for a long time. 

Newt could see the smile fade from Thomas' face as it grew more serious again. "Newt..." 

"Yeah?" 

"I really am sorry. I can't even put into words how awful I feel about what I said. I don't know what I was thinking, I-" 

"It's okay," Newt said in a comforting voice, "You were upset, and scared. We both were. I think all of us here have a bit of survivor's guilt. But I just want to make sure you know that you aren't alone. We're a family, and we're all there for each other." 

Thomas nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I know." 

A few minutes of silence passed as Thomas thought about Newt's words. After everything they'd all been through together, the Gladers were really starting to feel like a real family. It felt good, really good, actually. Maybe because they'd all forgotten what it was like to have a family.

The feeling of Newt's hand moving under the blanket then pulled Thomas from his thoughts. Not a moment later, their hands were interlocked in a tight squeeze. 

"Hey Tommy," Newt said, even quieter than before. 

"Hm?" 

"Thank you," Newt said in a gracious and happy voice. He leaned in quickly and gave Thomas a firm kiss on the lips. When they pulled back, their foreheads still touched. "Thank you for getting us out of there."

Thomas looked at him with a surprised face, giving Newt a small nod. He didn't know what else he could say. 

As Newt watched Thomas, he could see the tiredness quickly taking over the boy's face. He gave Thomas' hand one final squeeze before letting go. "Get some sleep, Tommy." 

"Okay," Thomas said, adjusting his body slightly so that he was in a more comfortable position. He scooted in closer to Newt, so that his head was resting against Newt's chest. Newt wrapped a gentle arm around Thomas. 

"Goodnight, Newt." 

"Goodnight, love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This is it. It's done. (I'm so emotional???????????)
> 
> Guys, this was the first fic I've ever posted and let me just say how blown away I am by all of the love and support you've given me. Thanks to all of you, I'm going to continue with this series (After a take a break to get my life together lol), as well as work on some of the other stories that I've started writing. So I just wanted to say that I love you all from the bottom of my heart, and thank you so much for going on this journey with me. And as always, thanks for reading. 
> 
> Fun fact: I posted the very first chapter of this fic exactly six months ago yesterday. Time flies...
> 
> OH and one more thing...it would be totally awesome if you could comment your most favorite and/or least favorite parts of the story, so I'll know whether or not to include similar circumstances in future works! Thanks! Love you guys<3


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